Crimson Desires
by VolksParadox
Summary: Anna, a young Huntress, agrees to take a job away from home. In a twist of fate, she has a rather unusual encounter with a mysterious Countess; neither of them realizing their paths would never be the same afterwards. Slowburn! Fantasy AU. Update 29/10/2018. Chapter 4 'A Fool's Quest' UP!
1. A Strange Encounter

**Prologue**

The wagon made a sudden jerk, waking Anna up. The dizziness from her light slumber didn't clear quickly, and she mumbled quietly whilst trying to stretch in the reduced space available. Then came another bump, more violent than the last one, and she cursed after her head hit wood. The interior was cramped with various boxes, stacked in precarious piles and some old equipment, chest armor and shoulders pads sticking out the mess here and there.

 _Why did I agree to this, again?_ She thought, annoyed.

After a mighty yawn, and knowing that sleep would be close to impossible with the way the vehicle bounced around, she gave a quick glance to the exterior through the dirty window of the door. Outside the rattling carriage, the night was submerged in deep darkness, with barely visible hints of moonlight making their way through the obscure skies.

As her eyelids started to feel heavy, suddenly an overwhelming feeling of fearful anticipation descended upon her; an uneasiness that made her wake up completely. Chills ran down her neck and arms as she contemplated, filled with dread, the rapidly passing landscape of black shadows, her pulse quick and erratic. Even though they leaved town as the twilight dawned, a few hours ago, the night was pitch dark, and the road outside was dead silent aside from the ruckus caused by their procession. She should have been outside, riding atop trusty _Renan_ , but the Duke wouldn't have it. The barely visible silhouettes of the tall pine trees were just a blurry of black and deep green, and after a few moments the throbbing in her center stopped, but her eyes where still searching into the void that had seemed to engulf the entire forest. The sensation of foreboding slowly receded, and Anna let go of the white-knuckled grip she didn't realize she had on her cape.

Eventually, as the wagon made its way through the rough roadway and the minutes went on, the strange feeling went away, like the whispering winds of a passing storm. She pulled her cape tight over her shoulder's leather armor while slumping to the side, intent on trying to nap the rest of the way to the Marquis's State.

-ooo-

 **Crimson Desires  
**

 _~ooo~_

"Had I but died an hour before this chance,

I had liv'd a blessed time, for, from this instance

There's nothing serious in mortality.

All is but toys: renown, and grace, is dead;

The wine of life is drawn…"

 _Macbeth, Act II, Scene III_

 _~ooo~_

 **Chapter 1**

 **A Strange Encounter**

-v-

At a careful pace, she descended through the stone staircase from her private chamber, making her way into the bedroom after a peaceful rest. She was awake now, and there was a pleasant prospect in the very near future.

During the last weeks, the _need_ had been increasing steadily, and Ulan's party should provide her with some very desirable sustenance. She neared the door and ringed a little bell, the sound resonating loudly in the absolute silence that was usual in her residence, signaling the go ahead for her servants to help her prepare for tonight's affair.

Soon enough, a couple maids entered the room, vowing respectfully at their master, and began to move across the room in a deliberate manner, one searching through her fine closet while the others collected the rest of her attire. Very carefully, a one-shoulder gown was laid in front of her.

The servants, silent and efficient, helped with the details of her dressing while she leisurely intertwined her long platinum hair in a single French braid. One of them offered, while attentively looking down, some jewelry she had picked before-hand for late evening events: a silver pin for her dress and a white-gold collar that they quickly secured around her pale neck. The choice was a conscious one, a way of making the fine garment melt around her alabaster skin.

She dismissed the maids as they finished with a subtle wave and, after they left, she settled her gaze in the beautiful twilight that could be seen from the wall windows, partially closed by heavy curtains, the garnet tone of the fabric catching some of the shine from the skies around the borders. And then she waited. The dusk slowly became night, with the last straws of light disappearing into the horizon, turning bright orange into a soothing blueish purple.

With measured and composed steps she leaved the room, eager to arrive at the gala.

-ooo-

A sudden stop and a harsh knock on the door announced the arrival to their destination. The captain of the Duke's Guard, a tall and built-up man in an expensive-looking armor glared at her through the window, checking if she was awake, and then continuing his path, knocking on the other carriages as well.

Noticing they had stopped after, _finally_ , reaching the entrance to Yvren's commoner's plaza, she descended from the uncomfortable carriage with a jump. The driver at the head of their little convoy was discussing something with another man in a black uniform, holding a halberd in his right hand.

Feeling her joints stiff after being cramped in the tiny space inside the cart, she stretched, enjoying the strong smell of humid dirt and the freshness of the night's air filling her lungs.

She then realized she _had_ been sleeping, and her hands grabbed her head to make sure her hair stood in place, meticulously arranged in a single, long ponytail. Fortunately, her usually stubborn locks were still under control. The two men kept arguing about something she couldn't quite catch, and Anna, not wanting to just stand and wait, decided to glance around her, taking in the sight. It had been many seasons since she had visited this part of the kingdom, after all.

Yvren was a little town, south of the Capital, known for its merchant guilds and religious edifications, with Marquis Ulan's State occupying a considerable extension just to the east, in the outskirts of the village. All around the commoner's square were various shops and establishments, with little wooden signs hanging from chains above the doors. Most of the buildings were closed, given the late hour, but some were still lit with life, the muffled sounds of singing and loud chatter reaching her attuned hearing. Some of them she still recognized, and some others seemed brand new.

A loud yell resonated behing her. The driver had finished his talk with the guard and was beginning to lash at the horses, biding them to start moving. She ran towards her ride and quickly climbed aboard, flashing an apologetic smile to the mean-faced driver of her carriage, who simply huffed and proceeded to yank the reins of the horses, commanding them to move.

As the procession restarted their advance, a couple of children started to run alongside the vehicle, laughing loudly and flashing her toothy grins, which Anna responded with her own warm smile from the little window. The vehicle picked up speed and left them behind, but she still heard the concerned parents scolding the little kids from playing close to the convoy, and immediately the redhead's mood worsened, melancholy sullying her heart. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the sudden surge of sadness.

They passed through narrow streets, finally reaching the outskirts on the other side of the town city, leaving behind the last humble houses that constituted the exterior boroughs. The cart then entered into the night yet again, crossing a little bridge above a quiet brook. In a close hill, visible across the dark fields surrounding them, was the Marquis's manor, an imposing looking building – even from a distance – right in the middle of a large extension of guarded grounds.

Knowing they were about to arrive, Anna decided to give a last minute check on her equipment. Her bow rested in a little corner of the damned wooden box she was currently trapped in, and she lamented it would stay in there: that kind of visible weapon was prohibited in any event like the one she was headed towards. She palpated in her left boot and let out a small sigh after she felt the hidden knife inside; it always soothed her knowing her sharp dagger was in there. Her brews, stashed in little jars covered by leather, hanged from her belt, and the redhead made a quick mental count of them to make sure they were all in place. _Four… five… good_ , she thought.

The dark cloak hung around her shoulders and neck and the light leather armor – shone for the formal occasions – completed her professional look, even if she never could shake off the idea that her freckles and wild fiery hair somehow broke the illusion she tried to create with her attire. But every thing she carried with her had a purpose, a clearly defined task that could, in some cases, save her life. There were slim to none chances of something dark lurking about on this particular assignment, she knew, especially in a rich and secure place like the one she was headed towards. But then again... that uneasy feeling she got while going on the road... wouldn't hurt to keep an eye open. It was her job, after all. Humming contently, she looked outside, the building in the hill growing each second. The night was still the deep black she saw on the way to Yvren, thick layers of clouds covering the moonlight.

The procession went past the iron gates that guarded the grounds and then, with a rough yank of the lashes, they stopped, finally arriving at Marquis's Ulan State.

Anna descended from the hideous cart and ran towards the Duke, taking her place at his back, to the left of the captain – a sturdy man with a squared jaw and little eyes –. Their group consisted in half a dozen people, plus Weselton: herself, the captain and 4 other guards. The walk towards the manor was through a pebbled path, ascending a very gentle hill that ended where the manor was. As they walked, some of the soldiers walking in front of her shot her some nasty and distrustful glares from above their shoulders.

She was aware that a couple of the Duke's men weren't keen on having a ' _bloody witch_ ' among them, and weren't subtle or quiet about their opinions either, but it didn't really bother her, even if they knew nothing of the true implications behind those words, especially to someone in her line of work. _If they ever see a real witch, they would end up shitting their pants_. It was a shame Kristoff hadn't been able to accompany her; that way at least she would have had someone to talk to, even if only to joke and goof around.

Soon the procession entered the State's yard, passing neatly arranged gardens of a variety of violet and rosy flowers. In the middle of the large terrace in front of the Ulan's Manor was a large bush, shaped in the form a prancing horse. All around her, more and more carriages continued to arrive, and from them descended a myriad of weird looking individuals, most of them wearing expensive suits and big dresses. She noticed that almost none of the noblemen had as many guards as her contractor.

Marquis Ulan, personally, came to receive their little procession as they arrived at the manor's feet, smiling wide at the sight of old Weselton and quickly approached the little man. The nobleman was a nice-looking man, some would say even handsome, despite the grey hair and clearly weak arms; but whatever he had going for him, Anna decided, was lost when he decided to wear one of those outdated suits – this one in red –, with the rounded shoulders and puffy, white sleeves. _Even_ I _know how awful those clothes are_ , she assessed mentally.

Both noblemen exchanged pleasantries with hollow words and big smiles, complimenting each other. The host indicated the steps that led towards the building's doors.

"The party will start shortly, I promise!" he shouted as he waited for some another lady or lord to arrive. The look on Weselton face soured the moment the Marquis left his side, and he snorted with disgust, giving their group a stiff nod, urging them to move on to the luxurious building.

Once inside, they were met at the vestibule by an old seneschal that supported himself with a wooden cane, who humbly gave them indications as to how to arrive to the main hall. As per instructed, only Anna and the captain of the guards were allowed to accompany the Duke to the main hall, which was vastly enlightened by torches, a dozen chandeliers and clusters of candles in the tables. Protocol dictated that they were relegated to the sides, so she and the other man quickly took a place in one of the corners of the room, whilst all of the nobility started to roam across the center, making light chatter and introducing themselves here and there. _There are a_ lot _of rich people in here_ , the redhead noted off-handedly.

After taking her place, the redhead's mind started to wander, distractedly looking at all the people in their fancy clothes and collected smiles. All that… _pomposity_ – in Kristoff's ridiculous words – was, as far as she cared, just empty gestures made by cynical and pampered people. The innumerable rules and little gestures that came with every greeting, and the useless knowledge – that managed to bore her endlessly – of ranks and positions among the nobility, was something she never could wrap her head around. As a Huntress, stuff like that wasn't required for her to succeed. And to succeed was to survive, most of the time.

Fortunately, her job this time was only to accompany the Duke to the gala, be around, mute, during the ball and the party, and keep on the lookout for any unwanted guests or dangerous individuals. _And to steal_ _as many chocolatey things as humanly possible_ , she reflected with a grin.

All in all, a piece of cake. And the pay was good too. Even if the Duke's fame of being cheap preceded him, he seemed to take his own security very seriously, and with good reason, Anna reasoned; the life of the man had not been threatened only once, or twice, and that had been only during the last year, if the rumors were true. _Being that greedy sure ends up being expensive_ , she thought ironically.

She drowsed out for most of the Marquis's welcome speech, only hearing tips and bits of the whole thing. The whole saloon erupted in modest claps when he finished with a bow towards his public. Soon enough, after the host's address, mild sounding music started playing. A _waltz_ , Gerda had taught her years ago, when she was still a child. The nobility started her rituals, requesting dances here and there with courteous bows after the Marquis opened the dance floor himself. The melody's notes hang tight in the air, combining with the sounds of shuffling feet and light conversations.

Anna sighed as she eyed the mountains of truffles and other treats in the table right next to her, knowing full well her hunt for chocolate would have to wait until much later in the party. Close to her, someone caught her eye, and the view that greeted her almost caught her breath.

This blonde woman was truly a sight to behold. She was dressed in a really tight black gown, with a long braid hanging from her right shoulder, the left covered by dark fabric with a silver pin attached to it. Platinum hair, neatly arranged, framed her slim face, her slow movements measured and deliberate. When she turned to reply to a tall, older looking man, Anna realized the dress had a low back, revealing a mesmerizing amount of the woman's skin, going almost all the way to her waist. This lady's skin, especially in her back, had an almost unnatural, ghostly texture that was reminiscent of milk or even of the soft snow in the winter's mornings. But the strangest – and even more fascinating – things were her eyes, glimmering with a deep amber-like quality, contrasting beautifully with the pale, elevated cheekbones. She was, without a doubt, the closest to a perfect embodiment of finesse and composure she had _ever_ seen.

A couple of hostile glances from some ladies at the treat's table snapped Anna out of her reverie, and she had to avert her eyes off the ridiculously attractive lady. She knew it was ill-advised for a commoner to look at a noble like it was something edible, even more so at a high-born lady like that.

So she waited, a couple minutes at least, before she tried to locate the woman again. When she found her, this time closer, she was engaged in conversation with a tanned, young looking lady, dressed in a simple but elegant yellow dress with a knee high slit on the sides and chestnut hair that flowed freely around her shoulders, shiny and immaculate; and yet despite all her charm, she just couldn't compare to the other, taller woman and her divine features, currently lit with a warm yet enticing smile curving her burgundy shaded lips.

The lady in the yellow dress was practically swooning, and the Huntress couldn't blame her. If she had been in her place she would have ended, most likely, a blabbering mess by now... It wouldn't be the first time, she remembered, and winced at the thought.

Anna knew she had always had a soft spot for the blonde ones, and she was endlessly grateful that Gerda and Kai were tolerant towards her affinities; it hadn't been just once that a woman had leaved her room the morning after a guild's drinking party at the inn. The reprimands that followed weren't because she had slept with another woman; they had been because she had done so in the inn's sacred grounds. _This is not a cabaret child! Do your business elsewhere..._ she could remember, clear as day, Gerda's constrained and annoyed tone. But Anna never headed those scorns, and kept bringing woman's with her when the occasion arose, even though it had not happen recently, she realized.

Three or four slow songs later, she recognized to herself that she had to know at least the woman's name, damning her own incessant curiosity in the process. Even if she was obviously out of reach, at least she would be able to have a name to call her in her fantasies, she reasoned, cringing at how pathetic the idea was, but in the end went with anyway, even if only to distract herself a bit. Scanning around her, she saw what she was looking for, and closed the distance with a couple steps. The captain of the Duke's guard was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, seeming to be bored out of his mind – a sentiment Anna could relate to. He didn't notice her, so she gentle tapped him in his armored shoulder.

Surprising him, he looked at her with an eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Hi" Anna chirped with her usual energy. "Say… do you happen to know who she is?" she pointed discreetly to the pale goddess.

The man followed her gesture, his gaze landing at the pair of ladies now chatting casually over some appetizers at a nearby table.

"That's Princess Talia, from the eastern borders." The man responded with a stiff voice, but something about that information just didn't click entirely to the redhead. The captain noticed her troubled expression and added, "You mean the lady in the shiny dress, right?"

"What? No, obviously. I meant the one in the black and red dress, with the large braid", Anna said impatiently. The captain eyes focused in the mentioned woman.

"Oh, her? If I'm not mistaken, she is Lady Elsa Nesfânt, Countess of some place west…" he responded, giving the surname a weird inflection and then pausing briefly, seemingly trying to jog his memory. "I think from the Gheata State. Yeah. I think that's the one."

"Are you sure?" the Huntress asked.

"Kind of? Look girl, you will have to ask the Duke or someone else if you are truly interested," the captain answered, his tone giving away a tinge of annoyance. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

Anna nodded, taking the hint, and went back to her corner, letting the name wander around in her mind. _Lady Elsa_ …

As the party languished on, her eyes kept wandering towards the pale Countess, who now was sitting at one of the round tables at the sides of the hall, seeping delicately from a glass of wine with the yellow dress brunette at her right, looking up with adoration clear in her pretty face and a hint of attempted seduction.

Anna had a suspicion as to why her attention kept being drawn towards Lady Nesfânt: a likely combination of boredom and _frustration_ , of the bad kind. _I need to get laid_ , she considered while rubbing her eyes, feeling drowsy from boredom. She looked around, trying to resist the urge to search for an empty chair. Deciding against it, she kept leaning against a hard column of stone. The Duke sat a couple meters away, getting drunk out of his mind, laughing and spluttering loudly around him, accompanied by half a dozen other noblemen – amongst them the host – all of them almost equally intoxicated.

Anna was grateful that she wouldn't have to deal with Weselton in the aftermath. Once this whole affair ended, she would return to the carriage and sleep plenty, since her employer would be taken care of by the Marquis personal guard.

In actuality, her job this time around wasn't meant to be hard: she knew the Duke was a superstitious fella and she had been contracted most likely to calm his paranoia. She huffed as the idea came to her, but she would be a fool to turn off easy gold after those last dry months.

The music had stopped quite a bit ago, and the lounge was filled with loud laughs and the distinct 'cling' of cups and glasses being moved around. A couple of fellows, all noblemen, had already retired, and some more were leaving, either alone or in couples. With them leaved their guards and attendants as well, but unluckily for the bored redhead, the Duke had also fame of being a liquor man, and it seemed he upheld high that reputation.

Annoyed at the prospect of having to be there for the rest of the night, she gave a quick glance around the room, already knowing what to look for. The lady of the yellow dress, by now clearly intoxicated if one judged by her erratic giggles and crimson cheeks, was pretty close to Lady Nesfânt, who never seemed to lose a bit of composure. After Anna had snatched another truffle from an unattended table, the platinum blonde leaned onto her companion and whispered something. The latter giggled again, quite flustered, but nodded wildly, earning a condescending look from the taller woman that was quickly concealed with a dazzling smile. After linking their arms, something that surprised the observing woman, they walked across the room, heading for the exit. Anna couldn't do anything but to let out a resigned sigh and an envious look as the pair crossed the open doors, already sensing her insides stir, a sentiment that resembled, somehow, the one she had on the road.

 _Wait._ This wasn't yearning, or envy.

It took her a fraction of a breath to realize that this was a very different kind of gut feeling. Immediately, her senses sharpened, and she followed them with quick steps, never taking her piercing glance off the pair as they made their way through an empty hallway, turning to the left. Something was off. ' _Trust your instincts_ '… her father had said countless times, and it was a mantra she always carried with her. One last glance to make her sure the Duke would be perfectly fine without her, and she went after the Countess and her courting lady.

Following them was easy enough: a lot of noblemen had retired to the chambers the Marquis had supplied for the majority of his guests, so she could just pretend she was some random anonymous bodyguard – which she actually was – as she trailed the couple from a distance. They went deep into the manor, and Anna was starting to worry about encountering some guard who would ask her a lot of uncomfortable questions. However, as she took a turn to the right in a deserted hallway, she saw the pair ascend a circular staircase made of grey stone. When she reached it, she looked up, making sure they had already left it. With careful steps she went up, taking great care to focus on the vague, drunken giggles she could still hear coming from the Princess. It was better this way: she could keep a considerable distance from the pair while still tracking them down. She had to avoid a couple of the Marquis's guards, but she ended up following the women without a hitch to a deserted hallway. The Princess tried to open the door at the end of it, but the Countess did it of her. The knot in her stomach tightened as she saw the couple disappear behind a heavy door.

She knew her stalking skills left much to be desired, but so far it seemed she hadn't been discovered. Intent on finding out what made her instincts go haywire, she approached the door.

A sudden noise halted her advance, and she ducked behind an old and dusty bust standing right in the middle of the hallway.

She waited as the sound came closer and closer, and then she heard a loud hiccup. A couple of guests, drunk and supporting each other, passed through the connecting corridor, slurring unintelligibly. They disappeared from sight, and a loud couple of slams indicated her that they had arrived to their rooms. A quite oppressive silence followed, and Anna, after feeling it was safe to leave her precarious hideout, made her way to the door. Carefully, she placed her ear on the rough wooden surface, but she could not hear a thing. She waited a few seconds, but nothing came. Frustrated, she looked around.

The hallway had a pretty tall ceiling, with old tapestry decorating the grey walls. So far, she was at a dead end. _C'mon, think, think… there must be a way inside…_ For some reason, she felt anxious, as if time was running out. She looked up once again, and noticed something in the right wall. There were tiny windows lined up at the top, and that meant she was in the outer side of the manor. Maybe, if she could reach them, she could find an elevated window or a crevice from the exterior through which she could follow them or at least have a peek into the room. The ominous presentiment she had at the gala was still there, and she knew by now she had already committed to this: she would see it to the end.

The practical problem now was that for her to keep going, she would have to make use of one of her Seals, and the prospect wasn't exactly thrilling. The Huntress considered briefly if it was worth the price; it wouldn't be the first time she misused the power in a goose chase, but ended up choosing to go for it. _Hopefully the migraine is not gonna be_ too _severe_ , she thought darkly. Breathing heavily, she prepared herself.

In a quick sentence, she chanted in the old Tongue for divine favor, and a brief moment later specks of light began dancing above her limbs, rotating around her heels and wrists.

Taking one last look to make sure she was still alone in the corridor, she flexed her hands as a well-known sensation spread through her limbs, the fuzzy sensation of the Blessing cursing through her fingers and feet. She made a tentative jump and smiled at the effective result of the incantation; she faced the long wall, and with a big leap and started to climb rapidly. Her palms and boots did not make contact with the rasp surfaces, but carried increasing momentum that allowed her to leap farther each time. With a couple of well-practiced jumps, she reached the high-up windows, grabbing the ledge, opening it, and then propelling herself upwards, feeling the strong winds from outside lash onto her face as she climbed out.

She was now in the roof on the manor, and she had to make an effort to not squint her eyes because of the harsh gusts. The clouds above her threatened rain, moving heavily across the sky. Steadily, she took a couple of tentative steps forward, her toes not even touching the slippery surface, but she knew the Blessing kept her from falling to her death. Feeling more secure after taking the few first steps, she strolled forward in almost perfect balance – thanks to her incantation, offsetting her natural clumsiness –, searching and keeping an eye to not go beyond the length of the room below. Just a lengths arm away from the edge of the roof, she found something promising: a decorative fractal that also served as a window, made mostly of red and yellow glass. It had little hinges in the middle. _Bingo!_ She cheered. Crouching first and then kneeling on the big ledge, she tried to peek a glance from the colored window, but its glassy texture hindered her efforts.

Her curiosity burned her on the inside by now, and she cursed mentally because of the obstruction.

A second later, movement caught in her peripheral vision and she narrowed her eyes, focusing after seeing a flash of the yellow dress in the middle of the room and, without realizing, she leaned forward, trying to get a clear view. The form of Lady Nesfânt was just a blurry shadow that seemed lo lean towards the woman. Her heart, for a reason unbeknownst to her, skipped a beat. _If only a little bit_ … she said to herself, slowly starting to open the fractal, applying pleasure to the bottom. The hinges turned an inch, and she dipped down her head to take a quick look, feeling her chest's throbbing deep in her ears. Finally she had a clear vision of the chambers. The two women were standing in the middle of the barely lighted room, the snow blonde reclined over the Princess's neck. A steady flow of blood was running down tanned skin and the Countess deep red eyes glimmered in the shadows. _Is she_ biting _her…? But that means she is…_

Anna's train of thought broke, her head feeling light from a sudden rush of vertigo. Instinctively she tried to grab on to the ledge but it was too late.

Her concentration, shaken by the vision below her, shattered for all of an instant, but it had been enough: her supporting hand ended up slipping in the humid stone, making her plummet towards the room.

-ooo-

Anna knew she fucked up.

The Lady's head turned abruptly at the unexpected sound, eyes shooting open at the surprise arrival. Only her enhanced reflexes saved the falling woman from breaking her legs or spine. Before she hit the ground, the white dancing lights in her limbs glowed more intensely, and she landed softly in a cat-like fashion, looking up at a surreal scene.

The platinum-haired woman – a freaking _vampire_ of all things, thought the stunned Huntress – was a couple of feet away from her, equally paralyzed, holding an unconscious and bloody lady in her arms. A mere second passed in complete silence before a thin frown appeared in the Countess's forehead, her eyes hardening in an enraged glare.

Her survival instincts kicked in and without delay she made a run for the wooden door, still sensing those red eyes in her back, gaining ground quickly thanks to the unbroken Blessing in her ankles. A tiny voice in the back of her head warned she was abandoning the poor Princess, but there was nothing she could do to help the brunette if she wanted to leave and tell the tale. Right now, the priority was to get to safety and, hopefully, rally some help for herself and the noblewoman.

However, just as she extended her arm to grab the handle, a table suddenly crashed against it from the left, obstructing the exit.

 _What in the…_ the furniture had moved on its own! Realization dawned on her, and as she spun, her left hand went instinctively for the little jar hanging from her belt, but it was too late. The vampire had closed the distance – in the blink of an eye – and grabbed the panicked redhead's arm; the tact was cold, some part of the Huntress registered, and her Seal broke the instant their bodies made contact with each other, though most of her attention was focused in the eyes of her captor, glistening with that same fire-like quality she seen so far. The woman snorted, pulling Anna's hand away from her potion. Blood still fresh smeared her face and clearly visible fangs, shining weakly in the dim light or the room. The Princess lied on the ground, a red pool forming around her neck and chest, dirtying her hair.

She was almost out of options. Anna cursed mentally. The only thing that kept her alive, she knew, was the curiosity of the vampire that held her in an iron-like grip. The vampire seemed to inspect her, and her heart jumped wildly. There was something undeniable _erotic_ about the whole situation (especially with the way the black dress seemed about to slip from the vampire's snowy shoulder) but the feelings of danger and fear were winning the battle inside her easily. Nonetheless, some stubborn part of her kept noticing these things: the slim figure, clothed in that tight black dress, the blood smeared in her lips and chin, glowing lightly, and those hypnotic eyes. The pale figure standing right in front of her just had this… _aura_ , as if the air around her was charged, magnetic even, but she still was – Anna's mind reminded her – a Vampire, a true and mighty Chosen by Blood, and the Huntress knew she had only one shot to escape.

"Who are you?" asked her captor, but Anna ignored her and the chills she got from icy, soft voice. Praying that her captor would be distracted enough while examining her, the redhead prepared to mentally break her other Seal, knowing she would pay a steep price later from the mental effort, but that was her only chance for that _later_ to exist.

She never got the chance to try.

As she steeled herself both of them established eye contact, and immediately she saw something pass, like a shadow, in the vampire's red, sanguine, orbs; an odd something that felt almost… relatable and came back to her, almost like a reflection. In that brief instant of linked gazes, a mental image of Papa, old and gentle, flashed before her eyes. The vision astonished her, stopping in full her feeble attempt at escaping. Then, surprisingly, the vampire released her, as if Anna's skin suddenly became alit, but… she hadn't even come close to finishing her Seal's incantation.

The Countess looked at her yet again, her expression troubled, this time from a distance.

"Leave." the vampire hissed, looking more confused than angry.

But Anna didn't ran, nor move. She couldn't. She was bewildered at the actions of the woman in front of her. What had just happened?

"I said… _leave!_ " the yell pierced hear ears, making her yank and stumble backwards. A part of her brain – the one in charge of keeping her alive – finally regained strength, making her realize the truly precarious situation she was in.

The vampire's eyes flashed red, and then her mouth contorted in a violent sneer, hissing while showing her inhumanely long blood-stained fangs. All the curious demeanor of the human-like creature in front of her had vanished, replaced by increasingly aggressive gestures and postures. Stumbling backwards, she crashed against the broken table; with haste she removed the obstacle and grabbed the handle of the door. Before she leaved, she cast a last glance at the poor, bleeding woman lying in the floor, and then to the vampire, who seemed ready to pounce at her at the minor mistake. The blonde's gaze was now cold, icy, but beneath it, there was something more, Anna noted as she yanked the door open and fled the room; just visible around the edges of those crimson eyes was a tinge of deep… sadness, barely concealed by rage and aggression.

-ooo-

Elsa didn't take well to interruptions, and least of all during her _meal_.

She couldn't help but feel impressed at the speed of this woman. Elsa smirked almost imperceptibly as the redhead made a dash for the door, helped by the elemental enchantments she possessed. This woman was Gifted and that, along with the fact she had certainly followed her, made for a very unusual situation; now, she was trying to escape after her spectacular fall.

As the female human reached towards the door, she commanded, without effort, a table that rested against a wall to fly through the air and crash against the entrance. The woman turned, her expression resembling that of an animal surrounded by predators on all sides. Elsa quickly perceived that she had a steel dagger hidden in her boot – she could sense the iron – and from her body emanated some weird and frankly irritating odors, amongst them those of hemlock and salt. And she was cute, she also noted. Her arousal was still present, after all. _Maybe…_ she thought, but then swept aside the idea. First, she would know who, exactly, this strange female was.

Sliding, she caught up with the intruder and, after seizing her, _sent_ her will to see inside her mind.

…

Nothing. She _sent_ her will once more towards the frozen woman, and still nothing came back. Elsa, maybe for the first time in decades, was surprised, and with good reason. Mind reading had always been one of her more strong skills. Sometimes, she didn't need to touch the humans in question to see inside their minds or their souls: their whole intents and wishes were there for her to see; even their most guarded secrets, if given time, would open up to her psychic inquisitions. But here... it was blank, an emptiness where she heard only herself. By this point, the redhead started to struggle against her grip, and Elsa refocused in her.

She noted, again probably because of her aroused state, a few things: the freckles that framed round cheeks; the loose strands of red hair and the strange tone of her eyes: a deep teal, guarded by long lashes.

As she inhaled the rainy and faintly sweet smell of the redhead, Elsa couldn't help but wrinkle her nose as some fetid essence reached her. The thin human had a sulfur concoction in her! And that little detail gave away much, but certainly not enough. She was not only a Gifted, but also a Huntress. What was she doing in here? Was she after her? If so, she did a pretty bad job at it. Her intuition told her that wasn't the case.

"Who are you?" the Vampire asked, the cold in her voice demanding and unnerving.

The human drew a step backwards, only to clash mildly against the crashed furniture. The blonde started to grow impatient after trying to establish a mental link and failing again. When the redhead attempted to reach for the second time the sulfur jar hidden in her belt, Elsa took hold of her wrist while her other hand went for the waist, pulling the girl closer. Fear was clear in the other woman's eyes, but also a profound spark of resistance. The girl kept trying to break free, and Elsa could've sworn she heard her _growl_. Why wasn't her telepathy working on this human…? Her eyes made contact…

A shiver. Deep inside her something recoiled, clawing his way to consciousness.

A whisper ran through her…

" _Sângele meu_ …"

The vampire backed off, her mind reeling, heart and soul aching painfully. The other woman eyes had reflected something buried deep in herself, releasing it without warning. She felt intangible, bottomless… _pain_ , unbearable in its strength, tearing at her soul's seams.

 _What did she do?_ She inquired mentally. But the weird redhead looked as lost as herself.

Confusion and rage quickly took over as the sensation grew, stubbornly clinging at the edges of her consciousness. She tried to yell, commanding her to flee. And when the human failed to start running, she raged. The human ran. Not once she considered killing of harming the Huntress who had just fled the room. What she wanted was for this this anguish to die, to be buried again. She was now alone. Outside, lightning coursed through the night's sky.

-ooo-

She ran, blindly, until she reached the main hallway that lead towards the gala, the event all but forgotten. As she stopped her mad dash throughout the empty corridors, a surprisingly strong feeling of pity struck her, with a force that almost made her look back and retrace her steps, but the quickly rising realization that the strange event had been actually a death encounter soon clouded the weird, completely illogical feeling. _Papa_ … the memory that she saw moments ago came back, striking directly at her heart. She took another couple steps before she realized she was shaking, her hands trembling uncontrollably. Her vision blurred, too, because her eyes were starting to water.

 _Oh, god, no, no_ … the Huntress pleaded as bottled fear she hadn't had time to process surged and swelled below her skin, the familiar and unwelcomed sensation of panic clawing at her lungs and nasty, burning bile rose in her throat. Her gaze became unfocused. She knew what was about to happen.

 _Breathe, breathe_ … It wouldn't be the first time. The anxiety kept rising, uncontainable, while she tried to wrap her head around the bizarre events that had just transpired, in the hopes – all but futile – that that knowledge would somehow prevent the panic attack. _Breathe_ … Her Seal had been forcefully dispelled, and that in conjunction with the fear and strangeness of her encounter with… _Lady… Elsa…_

Her rationality broke. The panic took over, and then Anna went running, looking for the entrance of the manor, her mind reeling in the need for open skies and fresh, cold air. Outdoors, the rain started to fall, quickly picking up strength…


	2. Unanswered Inquiries

I'm so sorry for the delay on this chapter. Lengthy AN's at the end.

 **Chapter 2**

 _ **Unanswered Inquiries**_

Stumbling and trembling because of the cold rain, she made her way towards the still alive tavern she saw hours ago when they arrived at Yvren. Along her erratic path, a thunder exploded, sending shivers through her back; the skies lit and crackled for a brief moment, casting ominous shadows across the plaza. Anna's mind had finally cleared enough to recognize she had run all the way to the town under the storm.

Trying to contain the violent coughs that rocked her chest, she finally reached for the entrance with weak arms. A part of her cringed when she imagined how she must have looked at that moment: soaking wet while clad in leather and dark clothes, hair disheveled and face contorted by fear.

A sudden wave of warmth and noise hit her as she opened the door. The voices died down quite a bit, all of the patrons staring at her in surprise. Ignoring the glares, she made her way towards an empty table in the far back of the congested room; a minute later, an old-looking lady with a twisted nose came to her, swaying, comically resembling a duck.

"Do you wish anything?" the hostess asked in a grumpy tone, eyeing her cautiously.

"Ale," Anna ordered, "strongest you have, too."

The elderly woman with the distracting nose blinked once, bewildered, but nonetheless retreated to the counter and began to serve the drink.

For her to calm down, she would have to use some tricks.

Little by little, the people in the tavern lighted up and went on with their conversations, laughing and eating loudly, but some here and there kept giving her weird looks.

The aging hostess came back and leaved a big and dirty mug in her table. But she didn't leave; she just stood there, waiting. It took the Huntress a moment to comprehend what she was waiting for.

 _Right, money!_ She caught up hastily.

Reaching under her cape for a little pouch, she took a Silver Royal and left it at the table. The grumpy lady gave her a dry nod after taking the coin and scurried away, scowling and muttering to herself. Anna sighed. She slumped in her seat, trying to regain warm.

The vicious grip of anxiety was still present, but not in a way that made the Huntress lose all senses. The constant trembling that ran through her tired body hadn't left either.

After making sure no one was looking, she grabbed a little vial from her belt, the right-most one. The minuscule object contained a violet liquid. She tried to delicately pour one drop onto the mug, but ended pouring two because of her mad shivering. _Whatever. I need the sleep._ With one long gulp she downed more than half of the nasty and heavy drink, cleaning her mouth of the spilling with her wet sleeve.

Looking around, she noted that there were still many patrons at the tavern, singing, talking, and all of them drinking. It gave the impression of just another, regular night, and that left a weird impression on the Huntress. It felt strange, almost wrong, to be seated in a comfy and warm place after… Her pulse quickened at the thought.

Grimacing, she tried to keep the memories at bay, just on the border of her conscious mind, because she knew she had to wait and hold on until the Keeper's Extract began to take effect.

Soon enough, a heavy drowsiness began to take hold of her. She stood up while still conscious enough to talk and made her way to the counter, trying to fight the increasing haze. With a loud thump she leaved another couple of Silver Royals at the table and asked for a room, cheapest one.

Moments later, a slumbering Anna collapsed atop a straw-bed right after taking her cape and boots off, not caring about the rest of her wet clothes, falling asleep almost instantly.

-ooo-

Next morning came in a blink. After being rudely awake by the aging hostess, just barely after dawn, the Huntress sat up in the thin bed, sick and disoriented, feeling as if her bones were made of stone. A quick look around cleared her foggy mind enough to remind her of last night's events.

Anna grunted in frustration, already aware of the long day ahead of her; at the same time, her belly groaned as well, indignant at the lack of proper food for the last hours. She quickly collected her scattered belongings – making sure her cape covered completely the back of her neck – and left the room, intent on finding something to eat.

A couple minutes later, Anna found herself leaving a humble, tiny bakery after buying some sweet bread, taking in the sights of the town coming to life: the air was filled with the sounds of gentle conversation, the occasional shout in the distance and the continuous rattling of wheels against dirt.

Right in front of her, at the other side of the plaza, resided famous Yvren's Chapel, a colossal building with two prominent towers in the front, the tall and proud structure looming above the plaza like a pair of silent guardians of stone and brick, their thick profiles rising above any other edification. It was one of the best known churches on this side of the kingdom, lauded by its rich history and architecture.

She remembered, when she was a lot younger, going inside just once, and at that time she never found anything remarkable about the place, even if Papa tried to explain to her the culture embedded in the old pebble and rusty paintings. She got bored in an instant, and her father had given her an understanding smile, knowing his efforts futile, relenting when she pulled at his hand, leading them both towards the tall doors, keen on playing on the plaza's fountain…

The remembrance left as it came, chased way by a little, annoying voice of urgency in the back of her mind.

 _I can't afford to lose more time if I want to be back at the State early enough_ , she thought wryly.

Sighing profusely, she began the long walk back to the Marquis's State, munching on a little piece of soft bread. The skies were painted in a sad grey tone, aligned with her current mood, but her pace was considerable, in an attempt to shake off the morning's cold.

Mentally, the Huntress prayed that the Duke's hangover would keep him in bed long enough for her to come back to the State inconspicuously.

-ooo-

The way back to Weselton's Duchy was remarkably uneventful. The carriage ran across the road with haste, passing along small traveler's posts.

Everything seemed normal when she had arrived at the manor. No panic over a dead Princess or anything outside of the norm for a cloudy morning. Some part of Anna's mind kept feeling guilty after she abandoned the defenseless, bloodied woman, but there hadn't been much she could have done differently. _Or at all_ , she considered, displeased with herself nonetheless.

She felt exhausted, depleted, but sleep avoided her; added to that, she still had quite the vicious headache; the back and front of her head felt as if it was being assaulted by constant and relentless pricks of hot pain.

Unconsciously, she tied her hair in twin braids while looking outside, sunk in silent contemplation.

-ooo-

They arrived at the Duke's castle – more exactly, an old Chateau, built on the margin of the Arendelle River – around the afternoon. She sighed heavily in relief as she descended from the hideous carriage, after passing the drawbridge that served as an entrance, and bowed towards Weselton (who didn't even bother to acknowledge her.)

From there, it would take only a short walk to reach Arendelle, she thought happily, but her musings got suddenly interrupted by a grave voice.

"Miss Străluci," the Captain suddenly called her, "come here for moment." Anna practically winced at how badly the man spelled the word, but she knew her last name was hard to spell, given it came from the Old Tongue.

She closed the distance in a hurry, unsure on what to expect.

"I'll be blunt, girl. I saw you leaving yesterday." Anna heart's leaped. _Does he know…?_ "You went after the ladies you asked for. Don't try to deny it." The redhead tried to conjure an answer but the man lifted a hand, stopping her.

"Look," the man continued, "where you go, with whom and what you do is your own business." His expression hardened.

"But yesterday you were on a job. You were supposed to stay until the Duke went to sleep, and you failed in that. And 'cause of it… I'm not gonna recommend you for the next time." He kept his face professional and curt. Anna wanted to slap herself at such oversight.

When she went off in her ludicrous chase she had checked on the Duke, but in her hurry she forgot about the Captain. But he was right; the redhead knew she failed at her word, failed at keeping her honor as a Huntress, contracted rightfully and paid in advance generously.

She nodded in agreement, and the man's gaze softened just a tiny bit. He extended his hand and Anna shook it, leaving the Duke's castle immediately afterwards.

 _Oh dear. Gerda's not going to be happy about this…_

-ooo-

The sight of the Crow's Inn never failed to lift an invisible weight from her shoulders. It was an old two stores building, made of solid pillars of granite and hardened wood around them, composing the floors and roof. At its side there was a little stable, where she would most likely find Kristoff, just spending the afternoon with _Renan_ and fluffy _Sven_. It was placed in the entrance of Arendelle, at the side of the road north. Its placement had been strategic, of course: with the passing years, it became the inn of preference for the travelers who rode towards the Capital from the south.

The front doors of the inn were closed, but it wouldn't be too long till the building began to fill. Being the end of summer meant the flow of travelers coming in and out of her little town was weak, but when winter came, they sometimes couldn't handle the influx of people seeking for food and warm beds.

A loud bark received her when she entered the stable. _Sven_ – an old hound, with long grey fur and black nose and paws – came to her, wriggling his tail happily. Kristoff wasn't in there apparently, which came as a bit of a surprise. Anna ruffled the dog's hair, smiling, kneeling and playing with him for a little bit. Then she went on to see _Renan_. She found her horse in his usual spot, a little cubicle with fresh straw and she was greeted warmly as well, the pure-blood horse huffing and leaning onto her touch, his big black eyes looking straight at her.

 _Renan_ had been her father's horse, once. Many people had offered copious amounts of gold for the mount, but she just didn't have the heart to sell him in the year after her father's passing – even if sometimes she desperately needed the money –. She had decided to keep him, no matter the cost. It was Papa's horse. When Kristoff finally found her, thin and weak from hunger, and offered to take her back to the Guild, she took _Renan_ with her.

Her Guild had its base here, with its territory being the towns surrounding Arendelle, all the way through _Weaseltown_ until reaching the road north. To the west, their grounds covered the great old woods that extended around Farstead and the Whispering Hills. To the east and south, the cove of the Arendelle River marked the end of their hunting grounds.

Slowly, she made its way through the back door, careful not to knock down some of the crates and barrels laying around in the storage room. She peeked around the little, cozy kitchen – full to the brim of cooking pans, mugs and all sorts of culinary devices – searching for someone to greet. She then moved to the main hall, void of people and silent, except for the little squeaks her boots made in the polished wooden floor.

There was no sign of Gerda in the low floor and Kristoff hadn't been in the stables either. _Where's everybody?_

"Hello?" she greeted tentatively, her voice echoing in the empty room. Paranoia was starting to seep into her chest at the empty place.

"I'm in here!" responded a firm voice from upstairs. Anna sighed, relieved at hearing the familiar voice. Heavy footsteps followed, revealing a tall, balding man descending from the stairs, dressed in a wool vest that barely covered his ample belly.

Kai smiled warmly when he saw the redhead, limping forward and closing the distance to embrace her tightly.

"Gerda's in the market?" she asked after they separated. He carried his signature smell, a bittersweet mix of cologne, herbs and old wood. It smelled like… home.

"Yes. She left a while ago, so it shouldn't be too long until she comes back. Last minute groceries." He answered, looking dreamily at the inn's doors.

"And where is Kristoff?" she inquired.

"He left with Gerda to help her carry the crates." Her guardian said, sadness laced onto his voice. Anna knew exactly why, careful to not eye his bad leg. "So I'm manning the fort for now."

Kai gave her a good look before continuing. "I take it everything went fine at the Duke's party?" he asked politely.

"Not quite." She replied, shrugging. "They won't renew the contract. It seems the Captain only wanted to appease Weselton and his superstitions." The reply was half true, she knew, but right now, with her skull splitting in half, she didn't feel like explaining further.

"I see… Such a shame." His eyes thankfully were not overly disappointed, most likely because he knew of the Duke's reputation, and then his gaze changed to one of silent comfort.

"Yeah, I know. Can you tell Gerda I'm home when she comes back? The party went on for who knows how long and I really need some more sleep. A carriage is not exactly comfortable." she added to her story for good measure.

Kai gave her knowing smile and nodded.

Anna left, climbing the steps two at a time, impatient to reach her room and deal with the headache once and for all, and then sleep all the way to tomorrow, if possible. The Keeper's Extract could knock out most of the consequences of a panic attack; but against the repercussions of a broken enchantment, it could no nothing. So other measures were in order.

Once in the upper floor she turned left; the guest's rooms were on the right side. Her little chamber was the last one, with the window that looked to the street outside. Inside, her usual mess was a welcome sight.

Clothes lithered across the floor and the chairs; her bed – tidied up by Gerda, as usual – was the only place with a resemblance of order in the chaos around. Her sword lied on a corner, sheathed, and above the bed's headpiece was a sigil, an old shield of arms with the colors red and green washed up, its main piece being the profile of a Crow's head, black and grey. The sigil of the Guild, hanging proudly in the main hall as well. _The Crow…_ she remembered. Her mind seemed unusually keen on remembering Papa, ever since the… encounter. She scoffed, shooing away the thought.

Moving around her stuff, she began rummaging in her closet, looking for the incense and the Moon powder. After a little search she found both of the pieces for the prayer, and began the preparations, while the stings of pain remained strong.

She laid in front of her a little rabbit's pelt – " _White skin for a white Blessing_ ", Damian, her Instructor, used to say – and quickly took the vial with the Moon Essence, using a couple of fingers to grasp some of the white powder. With her other hand she took a lock of her copper hair and extended, spreading the fine dust over it; once it acquired a milky consistence, she took her dagger and swiftly cut the hair, putting it on top of the fur.

Then she lit the incense and the bleached hair, burning them on top of each other. She opened the little window of her room to let the smoke and fragrance leave towards the sky. Kneeling in front of the offering, she prayed; the little hushes and sharp twists of the Old Tongue rolling with ease through her lips. As if a mist inside her cleared in the sun, the pain slowly receded. She fell to the floor slowly, the aftermath of the prayer running through her. Her eyelids were half open, and she muttered incoherently for a couple of minutes as the migraine finally disappeared.

She stayed that way until a sudden call broke her trance. Blinking for a bit, Anna regained consciousness. She stood up in a jump, and left the room, descending the stairs towards the hall. In there, Kristoff and Gerda were already waiting.

"Anna, dear!" called Gerda. Her thin frame and warm arms soon enveloped her in a quick hug. She then looked at her with a critical eye, inspecting her casually.

"How did it go with the old Weasel, _Carrots_?" half-mocked Kristoff, passing across the hall and giving her his crooked smile as he entered the kitchen to leave the crates of vegetables he had been carrying. He re-entered the room and passed a hand over her shoulder, giving her a little squish that hurt a bit, thanks to his strength. Anna smiled kindly at him and swatted his arm playfully.

Kristoff had really built up during the last years, she thought casually, after being a scrawny little boy who she always beat in their runs through Arendelle's forest: his shoulders were broad and heavy, same as his muscular arms and strong chest and back. His haircut, nevertheless, remained the same as when he was younger: a short mop of rebellious straw-blonde hair.

"It was alright. Just a boring party." She said, looking at Gerda. Kristoff rolled his eyes good-naturedly and left, moving towards the back room, most likely to fed _Sven_.

"So it went well? You kept the job?" the older woman asked as she hurried towards her reign to prepare tonight's meals. Anna went after and helped her to light the fire of a little chimney, carved in stone on the kitchen's wall. "Thanks dear."

Anna sighed, knowing what it would follow.

"It went alright. Buuut… the Captain fired me. Said something about not actually needing me." She answered nonchalantly, hoping it would lessen the news impact.

"What? Why? It was a good job child. What happened?" Gerda inquired, frown already setting in her forehead, but Anna saw through the annoyed expression: she knew her surrogate mother had wanted her to find a good, stable job so she wouldn't have to go back to dangerous hunts out in the wild. But the Huntress had never minded that part of the job; being out there was something she liked much more than being the bodyguard of some rich prick, and she was better at it too. Only in a hunt she could put to good use most of the knowledge Papa and Kai had passed on to her.

The redhead shrugged her shoulders the same way she did with Kai.

"They didn't need me. And I think the other guards didn't like me that much, so… I think it was better this way." She smiled at Gerda, who sighed profusely and began to prepare to cook, wrapping a worn-out maid's apron around her

"Then you better help me prepare tonight's dinner…" Anna's expression and hopes lit up, "but not in that way," just to be immediately shot down.

"Help me gather the ingredients and cut some of those onions, yes? No cooking for you, miss. We want our patrons to actually come back, alright?" Gerda teased. Anna could only pout and nod silently, dragging her foot towards the storage room, leaving the kitchen as the other woman released a small laugh.

Later that night, after spending the rest of the evening helping around the inn, she went to grab some of the old books kept on a dusty closet, at the end of the little hallway leading to Kai and Gerda's room.

Most of them were rusty bestiaries and antique manuals with covers of torn leather. She remembered having to spend countless days of her teenage years learning from those books, hunched over the smelly pages while trying, fruitlessly in most cases, to memorize the names of a variety of creatures.

She had hated those moments, dull and boring, but she had persevered. To make Papa proud. Anna smiled sadly at the memory as she dropped the old tomes in the little table on her room and opened them, coughing slightly at the dust the pages released when she turned them. She sat down and began to search for answers.

-ooo-

After a whole night of reading, Anna was confused. Most of what she knew about the Night-Lords was on those pages, but that was it. Nothing more. The books went on to great lengths explaining how to prepare sulfur concoctions, how to enchant weapons through Seal's to fight against them. Their weaknesses, their strengths in combat. But aside from that, there was almost no information.

The Huntress scratched her head while slumped on her little desk, her cheek planted onto the surface. _What actually happened that night?_ She asked to no one.

Why did her eyes hurt so much? Why did it mean the strange, vivid memory she saw? Did _she_ saw it too?

As she wondered about those questions, exhaustion finally caught to her as she fell in deep, dreamless slumber.

In the east, the first specs of sunlight began to rise, and in the dreams that followed, hazy and obscure, she felt as if something inside her awoke, calling for her.

Three days had passed since the night at the Marquis's manor. Anna's days fell into a strange routine of helping around the inn whenever needed (the usual), and looking through the old pile of books in the nights. The nights and early mornings, when she slept, were rough. Feverish dreams plagued her rest: dreams of old cathedrals, burning candles and agonic noises, scratching inside her skull. As a result of it, waking up ended up being more of a drag than usual, something Gerda did not take well.

By the third day, the redhead knew Kai was starting to grow suspicious of her new found fascination with the old manuals; he always have had a keen eye for pointing out changes or unusual behavior.

It wasn't until all the patrons left or were asleep, though, that he knocked on her door.

"Come in!" she said. The man entered the room – his usual smile gone, replaced by a neutral expression – and seated himself heavily in a tiny stool. Her little chamber was lit with half a dozen candles surrounding her table, the little flames casting dancing shadows across the walls and bed.

"What's up?" she asked, trying to play innocent.

Kai didn't ask right away; rather, he looked at her with a puzzled expression, as if he was considering how to approach the subject. He clearly knew something was up.

"What's with the sudden curiosity Anna?" Kai began, going straight to the point, eyes narrowing lightly in suspicion. "You have been acting rather… weird, since you came back. Also, every book you have taken is about creatures. One creature, in particular." _Damnit!_ The redhead cursed under her breath. Of course he would notice that.

"Oh, that." She laughed nervously. "It's just that I heard some rumors about a vampire roaming around while I was at Yvren, and it got me thinking, is all." The Huntress lied, hoping the excuse would suffice.

"And I suppose you don't intend on taking on the job of hunting such a dangerous beast, right?" her guardian's tone was deceptively calm.

"Oh, no, no… of course not!" Anna noticed her voice was a pitch higher than normal, and smacked herself mentally. She wasn't prepared to talk about what happened, and in a way she didn't want to. The whole thing still felt like a dream, and one very personal at that; also, she didn't want to risk her Guild or, worse, another, going after the vampire (even though she didn't know why she was trying to protect the creature). As she reflected, she picked up on something the man had just said.

"Beast?" she asked.

"Yes, beast. Blood seeking beasts, looking to quench their thirst on the innocent." He paused for a moment, pondering his next words. "If some scholars are to be believed, vampires are cursed by Blood. But unlike most power-hungry witches or lunatics searching for dark favor, their curse is meant to be a means to survive, but as far as I know, no one has been able to prove it. Even then, they are cursed, and dangerous as such creatures always are." Kai answered sternly.

"Wow. Why isn't that written in the books?" she questioned, puzzled about her mentor withholding the information.

"Because there is no clear consensus about their nature. They are usually reclusive creatures, but sometimes they do go on a killing spree, and from the little we _do_ know, the Red Madness manifests in them as an unbearable need for nourishment, driving them to commit massacres. Aside from that, we know practically nothing for sure, aside for how to kill them when they reveal themselves, either by accident or intentionally." The old Hunter finished.

"But… I mean. Couldn't we just… ask them? The friendly ones."

Kai eyed her, intrigued. "There are no friendly vampires Anna. _Maybe_ there are some of them who aren't vicious monsters, I can give you that, but the encounters with their kind are extremely rare, one or two sightings at most in a generation. I have never seen one myself. Neither did your father." He paused.

"Now that I think about it, I believe only Damian has fought one…" he trailed off. That peeved her interest. Her old teacher had seen a vampire?

"Anyway. What we know for certain is ancient knowledge, passed on between the Guilds." He finished as he stood up with some difficulty, making the stool rattle. Anna nodded, still confused.

"So… anything you want to tell me?" his voice had a fatherly tone and his gaze was soft and concerned, but the guilt the redhead felt at lying to him wasn't enough for her to spill the secret.

"No… As I said, I was just curious about the whole thing." She smiled widely, hoping Kai wouldn't see right through her. He gave her a quick nod and left the room, closing softly the door behind him. The sound of his heavy footsteps on the wooden stair told her he was going to the kitchen, most likely intent on discussing what just happened with his wife.

-ooo-

It was almost dawn, and Anna still remained awake, half sat atop her bed. Her mind whirled around, still obsessed about what happened. As she thought back to the whole ordeal, her mind kept pinpointing the weirdest details. The deep red of the vampire's eyes, the tight dress that fitted her like a glove… It was quite frustrating.

She knew she should have been more freaked out and scared, and she had been for a while, but now, in the complete safety of her home, her traitorous brain just couldn't resist sending her a myriad of different questions – and some rather nice-looking memories – that just would not leave her alone. And then there was that instant that felt almost like a connection. She had seen such pain in those crimson eyes…

If to all that she added the dreams… The redhead groaned in frustration, plopping back onto her bed and staring at the wooden ceiling. _I'm gonna go mad_.

-ooo-

Making her way through the somber and deserted hallways of her home, she practically flew towards the stairs on the other side of the building. The sorrow that she felt, stubbornly imbedded in her soul, was almost unbearable at this point. After reaching for the entrance, she began to climb down the steps without making any noise. The basement of her antique home was out of boundaries for anyone except herself; once, one of her servants made the mistake of taking a peep, and then, no one dared to do something so foolish again.

Placing her hand on the flat surface, she pushed the heavy door that guarded the place with ease, ignoring the creaking sound it produced.

The spacious room echoed and it was submerged in deep darkness, but Elsa could see through it naturally. At the bottom of the pillars that served as the manor's foundations were little mounds of black earth, as well as complex markings meandering all around the firm stone columns.

Her breath was more labored by the minute, and she had to restrain herself from clutching her chest to ease the anguish. She dashed towards the end of the chamber, searching. It had been countless years, she figured, since she visited this… _sanctuary_.

There was a single, simple chest, its only ornament a sigil made of silver on top of the closed lid: an intricate design of a blossom, surrounded by thorns and little leafs. Anxiously, the vampire kneeled above the chest, placing her hand on top of the metallic escutcheon. Instantly, a memory flowed back, colorful and vivid, but still, painfully distant.

 _Sângele meu_ …

 _Elena…_

Weakly, her knees gave up, and she collapsed onto the floor. Sorrow flooded her heart and soul; an old wound just ripped wide open. Elsa started sobbing, silently and without tears, her arms covering her face.

-ooo-

 **Author Notes:** here is Chapter 2. Just wanted to say a few things. First of all, shout-outs to the fic _Eating Habits_ , by Amnestyyy, which introduced me to the awesomeness of vampires in this fandom. If you haven't, go check it out! Second, to announce that I intend to update this fic every 10 or 12 days, but aiming at doing so every week. For further explanation about my style and writing influences, future projects and release dates, check out my profile.

This week's episode is still introductory, and quite exposition-heavy, but necessary in terms of the over-all plot. Believe me, I wanted to can the whole thing, but I just couldn't find for dear life a way to connect chapter 1 and 3 without this one (or making Chapter 3 drag unnecessarily, making it over 10k words.) I reiterated so many times this chapter it's not even funny, and while I'm still very unsatisfied with how it ended up (even more so than usual), hopefully you found some enjoyable things in this mess. Next one gonna be a lot better, promise. Again, sorry if the chapter feels kind of… bloated and somewhat incoherent. I tried to keep a good pace when I felt nothing was happening.

Last but not least, to thank everyone who has read, followed and such this little weird story. Reviews would also be appreciated (since I'd know how you perceive what's good and wrong about the writing). At around chapter 7 or 8 I'm going to take a break to revisit the whole history so far and make quality of life changes, adding paragraphs here and there and removing some of the trim, and also fix any typos that slipped by.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed Chapter 2. Next chapter in a couple days, a week at most. Cheers!


	3. Hidden Premonitions

Thanks for all the favorites and follows so far! AN at the end as well.

-ooo-

 **Chapter 3**

 _ **Hidden Premonitions**_

Anna's steps were silent, each one taken with care and expertise. Like the summer breeze, she slid through the forest, bow in hand, looking and listening with care. A leaf snapped, to her right. She crouched instinctively, her gaze searching the woods. Nothing. But the trail was still there. A few marks on the ground, and the lingering – barely recognizable – smell of rotten flesh. She was now in the deeper parts of the forest, its tall pines casting a myriad of shadows that moved with the gentle winds coming from the eastern hills.

It took her a couple of hours of patient reconnaissance to find the right spot. Farstead's forest was big and ancient, its ways not always clear to the uninitiated. In its calm depths it was easy to get lost. Not Anna, though. She walked with measured steps, her eyes scanning the foliage ahead with practiced ease. The subtle hints, the little details she picked up from habit told her exactly where she was.

She kept moving, trying consciously to maintain her movements controlled; stumbling or falling wouldn't do in this situation: it would give her away. Now the trail was becoming more evident: broken twigs here and there, leaves throttled. The mongrel's unmistakable marks had carved this path on the forest's soil. The track ahead was clear and she followed it, taking care not to ruin it with her own steps.

She had been contracted for a straightforward hunt: an Earth's mongrel had taken root on these woods, and with the town's garrison on leave, the civilians could not track down the beast. After some livestock losses – so the merchant that she talked to said – they had enough and a rider arrived at the inn, with a contract for their Guild. And so, she had rode to Farstead at dawn – grumpily – planning on taking care of it immediately.

As she moved across the humid greenery, her acute and precise hearing had picked up a while ago the lack of fauna around her, which meant she was in its hunting grounds…

There was _too_ much silence, in actuality. No chirping, no gentle rustling of leaves around her; only the soft swooshing of the air. _Weird_ … Anna picked up, crouching to see more clearly the impressions on the forest ground: she saw in the mud, couple feet ahead, the animal's imprint, and her suspicions spiked. The beast she was hunting wasn't a common mongrel.

 _This is something bigger, meaner_ , the redhead envisioned with worry.

A loud crack from far ahead, followed by a barely audibly screech, broke her train of thought. Anna advanced in silence towards the sound's source, standing behind a thick pine tree. The fetid smell became more pronounced, prickling at her nose. The trail – now an obvious lane of mud and trampled bushes – abruptly descended a couple of feet in front of her, its path descending into a little dell: a semi-circular trench a couple of yards in width, surrounded by tall pines and oaks. At the bottom, several corpses laid around a hole the size of a door, embedded in the roots of a great oak tree.

The cow and sheep's carcasses that littered the contours of the hollow were all mangled and rotting; the poor animals had all been bitten in their soft bellies, their guts turned inside out. Most likely, the creature had only eaten their livers, so there was no mistake: this must have been a Blood mongrel: a _cursed_ beast. _That would explain this silence…_ the Huntress thought darkly: the essence of such a creature usually drove the clean animals away.

The size of the nest told her everything else she needed to know.

Anna quickly assessed her options. _I could go back, bring Kristoff… but it would take another day, at least. Go back to town, renegotiate…? Same problem. And if it attacks in the meantime…_ If she took the least dangerous option, she would have to redo all of her work. She was perfectly capable of taking it down by herself, though, even if it actually was a Blood Mongrel. And there was the question of the price, too.

She knew the sensible thing to do was to go back, but at the same time… she was already there. _Why not get it done now?_ A tiny voice chastised her by the recklessness of the idea. There had been a time where she would have gone back, but that was _before_. She was perfectly capable of getting this job done now.

She made her choice. Yes, she would have to use some of the 'tricks' Kai had taught her for getting the right amount of Royals, but right now there was a more pressing issue to take care of. Last minute preparations had to be made.

The Huntress took from her quiver a neatly enveloped package. She undid the knot that held it together, revealing three large arrows, the ones she always carried for protection; lifting them with her right hand, she carefully whispered into them, feeling a wave of heat run from her neck towards the enchanted bolts. She dislodged her cape and left it at her feet, knowing it would only hinder her moves. It left her neck exposed, but there wasn't anybody around to see it. Next she took one little vial from her belt and shook it, the yellow, thick substance mixing inside the recipient.

Carefully taking cover in a big patch of foliage at the edge of the dell, she opened the vial, trying not to inhale its contents. It contained Buzzard's Breath: the rotten smell of bile and flesh was meant to attract her prey, even a cursed one.

With her breath held, she threw the little flask across the trench; it landed close to the nest's entrance. Now she only needed some noise. She took a branch from the pine tree next to her and snatched it in half. The sound echoed in the depths of the forest.

Anna waited, crouched in her hiding spot. Nothing. _C'mon… get out_.

A few seconds later, she heard it: a labored breath, coming from the black hole in the other side. It sounded heavy, more than she expected.

First she saw the beast's head, followed almost immediately by its full body.

 _Of course_ , she thought, accompanied with a roll of her eyes. Of all the cursed creatures she had to encounter, _she_ had to find the big ass ones.

The Earth mongrels – mole-like creatures, resembling rodents more than dogs – the big ones, were usually the size of a wild boar, sometimes a bit bigger. This _thing_ was the size of a grown bear, at the very least. Its bloodied, brown paws were, easily, the size of her own head, even if they were tiny in contrast with the whole body; at its sides, there where long strips of red among the dark fur. _The curse_ … recognized the redhead. The beast sniffled cautiously; its little, black eyes roaming around, closing in to the alluring smell.

It was time. Anna took one of her special arrows – the ones separated from the rest on her quiver – and slowly drew the bow, taking great care in keeping her feet stable on her vantage point and her breath steady. The bolt's head she held tight – covered with a silver-like substance – was laced with a red strip at its base, and rough runes had been carved in the shaft. She tensed the string and shallowed her breath. _Be precise_ , father said. _Be_ _true_.

The beast paced around the place where the vial was, looking for rotten meat.

She only needed one opening.

When the creature head turned in her line of sight, she knew it was time. She exhaled faintly and released her grip. The arrow flew, covering the distance between the Huntress and her prey in a split second. She hit bullseye: the dart embedded itself deeply on the mongrel's right eye socket, and the beast released a powerful, high-pitched cry, stumbling in its little legs backwards.

Anna quickly prepared the next shot, but the beast seemed to sense where she was: its head turned towards the bushes she was currently hidden in. _Damnit!_ Cursed the Huntress. One of the side effects of a curse, she knew, was increased senses, but she had underestimated how sharp this mongrel's perception was.

The remaining eye of the beast, black as ink, zeroed on her; its rodent-like teeth snatched, making a clattering sound. With an ear-splitting screech, the mongrel lunged forward, making a twenty feet run with unholy speed towards the Huntress; but she had moved already, rolling to her left as the beast's teeth cut through air and foliage, its paws stomping wildly in the dirt. She released a precise shot to the beast's side, aiming at the juncture of the leg with the rest of the body. She hit true, again. With a calculated jump, she descended onto the clearing to gain distance.

The creature didn't seem to mind the second arrow at first – Anna knew normal weapons were mostly useless –, but as it raced towards her, the leg couldn't hold its own, full weight, making it stumble and fail the next attack, crashing against the ground as it ran towards her. _Got ya!_ She thought triumphantly.

However, the mongrel recovered in a split second, charging at her as if it was possessed, its piercing shrieks coming closer and closer to her as it unleashed a series of vicious strikes. She moved nimbly and evaded the monster's powerful and quick lashes, moving around in circles across the net's boundaries, waiting for an opening to shot at its head again. The creature kept charging at her with relentless rage, neglecting her the time to gain the upper hand. The bloodied animal charged once more, and Anna sidestepped the attack with relative ease; yet, for a creature its size, it was remarkably fast; almost _too_ fast, in fact.

Just as the Huntress rolled and 'danced' to avoid the next pound, the beast suddenly jerked its head around, changing directions using its back legs to gain impulse, snatching its jaws at her. The strange movement caught the redhead off guard and she barely stumbled out of the way; the mongrel's dirty fangs missed by a hair, but a mangled corpse got in her retreating path. With a yelp, she stumbled backwards, falling in the direction of the nest's entrance and almost losing the grip on her bow.

She spun around – keeping track of the beast with the edge of her vision – and created distance in a quick stride, half running and half escalating the edge of the trench. Anna's breath was beginning to grow labored.

The creature was getting dangerously close now, its bulky presence and disgusting odor at her heels. The mongrel charged again and this time the redhead jumped to the right, sliding in the inclined plane of the dell's edge; the force on the mongrel's run made it fail to stop in time, its head and teeth crashing against the tree ahead, confusing the wounded beast momentarily.

 _Now, there is an idea_ , she thought franticly. The creature didn't seem to be able to stop her own momentum with its wounded leg.

The now agitated redhead reached for her last enchanted bolt as she ended her slide, but she grasped at nothing. Confused, she looked over her shoulder at her quiver, but the dart was missing.

 _My arrow!_ She realized, a sudden streak of fear surging in her spine. _It fell somewhere!_ She had barely a second to locate the shiny bolt – fallen on the edge of the nest – before the mongrel tried to close the distance in forceful leaps. Anna's scrambled to her feet and ran towards the nest's entrance, intending on recovering her lost weapon.

 _Now or never_ , she thought as she approached the cavernous entrance.

A terrifying shriek – just feet away from her back – gave her all the warning she needed. Acting on pure instinct, she jumped to the right in an abrupt manner, snatching the arrow from the ground with a quick roll meant to stabilize her; the beast's impulse carried it forward, passing her, and as the cursed animal tried to change directions, Anna got her chance: she drew the shot in the blink of an eye and let it flew.

The bolt hit the beast underside, close to the second shot. The mongrel was already rushing in her direction, its unnatural screams growing in pitch. _It should be good enough_ , she hoped.

And so, Anna whispered.

" _Tragem foc_ "

The arrow's heads, embedded deep in the animal skin, ignited at her command. The charging creature's side and head burst open in flames, producing a sickening clatter of broken bones. The animal howled in sudden agony, stumbling first and then falling flat in its right side a couple feet away of the redhead, dying bright flames lavishing its corpse.

 _The deed is done_ , she said to herself and to no one.

Dark fumes escaped from the wounds, chunks of flesh and tendons falling off the agonizing creature. Closing the distance between them, she knelt over her prey, extracting the hidden blade from her boot.

" _Se va insanatosi…_ " she muttered under her breath, only audible for herself. In a last, vicious effort, the mongrel tried to snatch at her, but the bite came void of any force, scratching at the Huntress leather bracers. The creature's remaining eye glistened with impotent fury; its left legs – the ones still in one piece – twitched and flailed vainly in the air.

" _Jurat inima acest_ " she said huskily, bowing her head with reverence. Hopefully her plea would be heard. No creature wished to be cursed, and she was now releasing it of its misery.

Anna's dagger buried deep in the animal's neck in a quick, precise strike, violet blood spluttering around the wound. A last cry, a whimper, escaped the mouth of the beast, languishing for entire minutes; its ragged breaths each more weak than the last, until it released a long, drawn-out huff.

Her limbs slowly released the pent-up tension of the chase, and her shoulders slumped.

 _The deed is done_ , she repeated.

-ooo-

Dinner was being a dreadfully boring affair. Almost everything was.

She had been playing delicately with the border of her cup of wine for most of the meal, occasionally rising the ornamented glass for a quick sip, half-heartedly listening to her guest all the while. The taste of the food was rich, made with prowess and refinement by her servants; yet, nothing held a speck of flavor. She forced herself to munch on her food, trying to tolerate the awful, insipid sensation that invariably spread in her mouth. She had to do it, just for the sake of appearances; for the sake of the lie her life was.

The man on the other side of the table – Prince Derran, Heir to Carthan – had kept a rather casual chatter with her for the whole meal, to which she was grateful: her answers didn't have the need to go beyond one sentence. A royal messenger had arrived the day earlier, announcing the Prince intent on arriving to her State the day afterwards.

The intentions of the nobleman were not clarified, but by the sole virtue of being niece to the King himself, Elsa had no choice but to accommodate the unexpected visitant. Appearances, after all.

Her large dinner table glowed, thanks to the candlelight reflected in the vast array of crockery in display. The Countess felt the seconds drip away, and it was maddening. But such was the price of her status: boring dinners. Boring people. Boring mannerisms and talks. The name she adopted this time carried weight and respect. _Countess Elsa Nesfânt of the Gheata State_ , she enunciated mockingly. Daughter of the late Count Adgar. Of course, the Count had never been real. Yes, the Gheata State was hers, but it had been for such a long time…

She took another bite. Tasteless. Her eyebrows furrowed just very slightly. _How did food used to taste?_ Elsa wondered…

She couldn't remember.

Something tugged at the very edges of her mind, but it remained buried, somewhere inside her. The textures, the smells. They were still there, of course, present in front of her and in her tongue; but they lacked any spark, any elation or satisfaction in its consumption.

Her current silence was ill-mannered, she was aware, but this time she couldn't get herself to care enough about it.

Displeased, she looked at the Prince eye to eye and, in an attempt to escape the dullness that threatened to drown her, she dove into his mind with ease. The act would serve a double meaning: she would get to know her guest's unannounced intentions as well. The man's gaze clouded, his body frozen in place.

Elsa remained fixated in her seat, her gaze – unblinking – engaged with her guest's. A stream of ragged, incoherent images flowed. She followed them, her consciousness hovering above.

The vampire navigated through that river, catching a glimpse of the red-thread: his soul.

Emotions, she had learned long ago, were not clear, defined things; for the humans themselves, even more unclear still. The things she reached out with her powerful mind were often messy, tinged with color and texture. Some came from the heart or the gut. Others had their origins in the bones or in the skin.

Inside the soul she sometimes found entire palaces, carefully built. In others – her favorites – she found shining valleys, where the memories lived in freedom, gentle like spring's rain. Old wounds, fears, were usually the soul's inhabitants more forthcoming: she knew very well those were the ones that yearned for release. The aches of the soul… so known, and so foreign at once.

This time though... _There is barely anything in here_ , the Countess thought, annoyed.

The man's soul and heart felt remarkably… empty. No grand aspirations. No burning desires, no needs; just a sad parade of undefined quirks and impressions that together could not _hope_ to pass for a personality. His soul was barren, lazy: content with what it had, as long as it remained as such.

So… boring.

Almost without effort, she reached for the thought she was looking for. And when she found it, Elsa groaned. _Of course…_

With a tremulous sigh, she retreated onto her own, breaking the eye contact. The young man blinked a couple times, seemingly dazed, but he quickly went back to his meal, unaware of what had just transpired.

Elsa gave up on keeping this farce for long. The man's intentions – a formal request for courtship – where nothing new to her. Her position – a single, rich Countess – was a magnet for such propositions. And one after the other she refused them; the only difference this time was it came from a Prince.

Elsa didn't feel flattered nor prideful. Only annoyed.

She dropped delicately her cutlery at the side of her dish, containing the need to sigh again; in a blink one of her servants appeared behind her to take the almost full plate, leaving with a tiny head bow.

The Prince – quite busy with the fine dish she had him served – looked up, a question in his eyes. The Countess avoided his eyes, looking blankly at the empty hall. A calculated gesture.

The man continued his meal, occasionally commenting about the marvels of the flavor and such and such… Elsa nodded, reclining ever so slightly against her tall wooden chair. She gave him a quick look-over. His carefully arranged hair, the white pristine suit and his content expression – that of a capricious child – reminded her of Hans; reminded her of loathing and hatred… She griped the armchair, getting more annoyed by the minute.

"Lady Nesfânt?" the mild mannered voice of the Prince pulled her back from her recollections.

She looked over the table, slowly, almost languidly, making eye contact.

"Yes?" She answered, her voice just high enough to be heard across the large table, carrying just a hint of irritation.

Prince Derran flashed her a smile that barely held back its condescendence. Elsa realized he was expecting an answer.

"Forgive me, my lord. I have been awfully distracted as of late." She smirked at him, knowing full well the effect it would have.

"There is nothing to forgive, _dear_ Countess." The prince said gallantly. Elsa almost snickered at his obvious attempt of an intimate talk. "I just asked, if I may be so bold, about your lack of appetite. Are you feeling unwell?"

Elsa's smile reappeared, polite and gentle. All a front. Inside her heart, anger began to flare. She was growing tired of this eternal charade, and this spoiled man-child was becoming the last drop.

"Do not worry, my lord. I can assure you, I'm quite fine. But I appreciate your concern."

Prince Derran smiled somewhat smugly. He quickly finished his meal and straightened in his seat, looking at his host, intent clear in his gestures. But whatever he was going to say, he could never get to it.

Elsa had had enough.

His gestures kept reminding her of that bastard, and that little detail ended with her frail patience. Ever since _that_ night, and _those_ memories, she had been on edge.

In the blink of an eye, the little flames that lighted the room flickered and died, much to the Prince confusion. He couldn't scream, nor cry, as a shadow descended over him.

-ooo-

She entered Farstead riding on top of _Renan_ while chipping at a little piece of jerky, meant to try to keep the grumbling of her stomach at bay and her cursing in check at the merciless heat of summer: the midday sun shined in all its strength above her, making her sweat profusely. But she couldn't take her ragged cape off, so she had to endure the blazing heat stoically, biting grumpily at the dried beef.

The body of the mongrel – covered by her traveling blanket – lay atop a makeshift slide, made of some wooden planks tied together; its weight was close to that of a fully grown bear, and she couldn't just put such weight on her horse's saddle. In actuality, only Anna's and _Renan_ efforts combined had managed to drag the body out of the woods.

As they slowly strolled down the town's dirty streets towards the merchant's store, she gathered some curious glances from the pedestrians.

The merchant's shop – from whom she got the contract – appeared as she turned a corner. She directed her mare towards it, mentally going over about how she should get the deal redone. She arrived and dismounted, leaving _Renan_ on the little water post outside the establishment, gently patting her steed's robust neck.

She entered the poorly lit shop swinging the doors. The merchant – accompanied by an ugly, fat man sitting at the counter on a wooden stool – looked at her in mild surprise. _Maybe he expected me to fail_ , Anna wondered briefly. _After all, they must know what they send me after_. Nevertheless, she smiled at him and took a sit at the counter, opposite of the other man. All around her were pots, jars and boxes full of various goods, poorly stacked and lined in cabinets.

The owner – bald and fat as well, his white oversized shirt stained with grease – bent over and rummaged, grunting at the effort.

He gave her a mug of water, which she accepted gladly and gulped in one go, relishing at the fresh water going down her dried throat.

"I assume you took care of it?" The older man said, glancing with a hint of distrust at her, his hands rummaging through the counter's drawers.

"Actually… no. I didn't." She lied. The man's eyebrows knitted in confusion. "We need to… renegotiate. The price, I mean." She kept her face neutral hoping to not give away anything.

"What you mean 'renegotiate'? We already agreed on a price." The man responded, frowning at the redhead. His companion spun on his chair to look at her as well.

"Yes, but we agreed on the price for a simple hunt." Anna seated casually on another of the counter's seats, crossing her legs.

"I'm afraid this job is more complicated. So the price we agreed before has to change."

"What do you mean more complicated? We asked you to kill a simple mongrel!"

"Nay. You didn't. This one's not a little mongrel: it's a _Catelul Sângeros_. A Blood's Mongrel. Only something like that could kill so many cattle and steeds. I saw the bodies in the forest." She paused for effect. "I'm getting paid for a simple hunt, and this one is not. You want me to take care of it, you will need to pay more. Triple, to be precise. I think that's a fair price." The man expression soured with each word, as she expected.

"That's nonsense! You're trying to pull my leg here, woman. Those… things you said, only exist in fairytales. This is just a mongrel, a big ass one, yes, but still." The old man practically shouted, looking at her in disbelief and anger. "You just trying to scam us. I know your lot, girl, and your reputation. I ain't paying you coin for slaying some imaginary beast." His friend nodded, looking disapprovingly at the Huntress.

Anna simply ignored the insult and leaned on her chair, grinning slyly.

"Alright. Then you can deal with it yourselves." She began. The man opened his mouth to speak, but she did so before he could. "Look. You can wait for the soldiers to come back, or even find some other Hunter to do the job. But they will ask you for the same thing, maybe more, and in the meantime you will keep losing your cows."

She hated using this people's desperation against them, but it was that or lose the money for an honest hunt. And she had butchered one contract already. To get underpaid on top of that was not desirable; it would be a dishonor to her profession. Aside from that, what she said was true: if they went to another Guild, they would ask for the same coin as she did.

"Maybe the soldiers won't be able to handle it, either," she continued, "not without some of them getting injured, or worse. You pay fairly, you get it done now."

The two men's glares shot daggers at her, but she could see in their clenched jaws they could not argue against the logic of her argument. The merchant seemed to consider something. Anna didn't know if to insult her or to agree with her.

"Double." He muttered angrily.

"Triple." She countered. "I can guarantee you, it gets done today." She smiled a little bit. Anna sensed she was pressing the issue a little bit too much, perhaps, but she knew they needed the beast gone. The merchant grunted, clearly displeased, but finally his eyes gave away, making the scowl on its face deepened.

"No funny games, girl. If you want the coin, _I_ want to see the body of that bloody beast, whatever its name is, myself." He declared, looking at her with disgust.

"Shall we shake on it, then?" Anna was having trouble keeping the smirk of her face. The man extended his hand just for an instant, barely making contact with her wet hand, and immediately retracted across the counter.

"Alrighty! Follow me, then." she said happily, standing up with a jump. The merchant frowned even more, confusion clear across his face. Anna stood up and left the building, trailed by the bald merchant and his friend.

Outside, a little contingent surrounded _Renan_ and her price, all of them undoubtedly curious about what was behind the blanket. A child, barefooted and dirty, was prodding at the edge of it with a stick, eager to see below. Anna reached for him and gently took his arm, smiling warmly at the boy but firmly making him retreat a couple of steps. Once the child backed off, the redhead took the edge of the blanket and pulled.

"Mother of mercy!" The merchant exclaimed as Anna uncovered the body, followed by several gasps around her.

The putrid and rotten carcass of the beast had begun to disintegrate in some parts – a side effect of such powerful curse – and its eyes cavities had sunken, two black holes occupying its place. The fat guy stared wildly at the corpse, his eyes bulging in its sockets, mute; the merchant's mouth opened a little bit in surprise.

"I told you." Anna said easily. "This was _not_ a common mongrel." The bald man nodded dumbly, still stunned at the sight of the animal's size.

Wordlessly, he handed her a pouch, hidden somewhere in her robes. Anna quickly counted the sum, and smiled. The Golden and Silver Royals were all in there.

-v-

As Anna rode back to Arendelle, her mind wondered onto the recent hunt and its unusual price; a Blood Mongrel, roaming around Farstead's woods.

The whole ordeal had been strange. She knew those forests had been scourged decades ago from Blood magic; her father and Kai had made sure of that, years before she was even born. The pristine state of the forest was evidence enough that no blood spells had been casted on these parts. _This doesn't make any sense!_ She thought, confused. _If not from here… the thing traveled from somewhere, then_.

Now the question was, where from? _Kai will want to know about it._

It was puzzling: there hadn't been signs of witches or any other magic users on these parts, not in years, decades even. Her Guild would know, almost immediately, too, but somehow they didn't. She and Kristoff would have to be on the lookout for any more cursed beats, or even worse…

And there was something else. To add to all this weirdness, she kept having those ragged dreams of scarlet and black that she couldn't recount after she woke up. _It seems like too much a coincidence… First the Countess… and now this_. She had been taught to distrust coincidences. All Hunter's knew, with certainty, that in every life were forces, invisible yet tangible, at play all around the world… But what it all meant… she was no seer or wizard…

 _Renan_ neighed at her, to which she smiled warmly, thankful of the reminder.

Anna knew she would not get answers thinking herself to death while mounting, crossing the quiet meadows between Farstead and her now home-town.

She gazed ahead, looking around. It was a sight she held dearly: after all, she and her father had traveled these dirt-roads countless times.

Grinning, she spurred _Renan_ very lightly, to which her horse responded in kind, increasing his pace significantly.

Ever since learning to ride, Anna fell in love with the sensations it entitled: the wind rushing against her hair, the rapidly passing scenery and the powerful feeling of her mount's robust pace between legs, as if its strength belonged to her. While on top of her mare, she felt boundless. The hills that connected the valley – where Arendelle and the neighboring towns were built – were deserted, with only little patches of woods decorating the fields of green grass that extended until the horizon meet the eye.

The twilight was fast approaching, and if she was quick, she would get to the inn in time for supper.

-ooo-

Elsa fangs dripped with blood. Her hands where smeared as well. Her casual dress, the tiles of the hall around her, all of them where coated in deep red.

She felt sick, disgusted at what she had done. Not the act itself; the fact she had to bite the Prince, out of necessity. And the fact she lost control. She could enter any human soul – almost any human soul, she remembered – but to change it, to warp it to her will, she had to actually have a taste of sorts. A rather inconvenient limit of her, granted, vast power.

The vampire cursed under her breath. Ever since the Huntress… an old pain had been awakened. It made her brittle, frail, and it had been such a long time since she felt this way. It was unsettling, the frequency from which the memories of Hans… and of _her_ … assaulted her soul mercilessly.

To make things worse, the invigorating feel of the blood burning through her had been stained, lacking the excitement and arousal that came with the hunt, with the dance of seduction that preceded her feeding of a _woman_. Having to bite a man… it just felt distasteful. Wrong. As with many things lately, it had been ages since she had to resort to something like that.

She did not spare a glance at the Prince lying motionless in the floor, pale as a shadow, as she left the room, slamming the doors shut irascible in her leave. Her servants would take care of it.

-ooo-

"I'm telling you! The Viscount himself claims he saw her kiss him!" the old man practically shouted, while some of his drink spilled into the table.

"The Princess of Visgaard says otherwise: it wasn't the Duke of Narand, it was his wife! She caught them in a hallway! And from the looks of it, she says, it wasn't entirely mutual." the companion of the old man, a well-regarded merchant from the region called Orland, said back, his moustache inflating in a comical way as he spoke heatedly.

Anna had been eavesdropping with curiosity at random intervals while helping Gerda tend to the Inn, filled moderately as of that night.

 _Everyone is talking about the Queen nowadays_ , she thought amused. When it came to rumors, the Huntress was more inclined to believe Orland – an old customer of theirs – as he was well acquainted with the people from the North, were most of the nobility resided. Anna herself had only been once or twice to that part of the kingdom, and those times were before her father's passing.

In the last weeks it looked like there was a new history by the day, each one more sultry and egregious than the last; in addition to that, the King's weakening health ensured that the Royal Family was talked to satiety, much to the innkeeper's dismay.

Seen the frown in the woman expression, she told her with a quick smirk.

"They ain't exactly subtle, eh?" Her smile dropped as the older woman smacked her not so playfully with the back of her hand as she moved past her towards the kitchen.

"You, young lady, should not be listening to that nonsense." Gerda's expression soured, as it always did when someone bad-mouthed the Royal Family. Anna, of course, was aware of her background as a servant on the capital, in the time before she had met Kai, many years ago.

The doors of the inn opened loudly, making way to an odd couple – a burly, bearded man with greying hair, and a lean, tall brunette – which quickly searched for a table still unoccupied.

Anna recognized the woman that accompanied the built-up man. _Belle_ , she noticed, her gaze focusing on her. Guiltily, she couldn't help but follow the way her hips seemed to sway with each step. Her bosom was _very_ visible in her tank top, and the woman's raven hair, long and shining, covered almost the entirety of her back.

Last time she saw her had been at her twenty-fifth birthday, a couple months back. And Belle had been part of her birthday presents, thanks to Kristoff. _How sad it is that she is the thing closest to a relationship I ever had?_ She thought. Of the few women she had taken upstairs, the brunette had been the only one who seemed keen on coming back.

She recalled that night – feeling her cheeks heating up at the memory – the way Belle's hands, slender and nimble, had…

 _~ Red eyes, glowing ember-like. Pale lips, cold as snow. ~_

Anna's eyes widened. _What was what?_

She looked over her shoulder, as if someone had just whispered in her ear. Gerda looked at her from the kitchen, arching a brow questioningly.

Anna glanced back at Belle, seeing her long brown hair waving softly as she chuckled at her companion. She waited in silence for the strange voice to reappear for what it seemed to be entire minutes, but the only things she heard were the voices of the patrons drinking and eating, their rough laughs, and the occasional screech of a chair being pulled.

 _First the dreams… now I'm hearing voices…_

Anna slumped over the counter, placing both hands on her cheeks and using her elbows for support. _This is getting out of hand…_ she felt a tinge of fear revolve on her gut. _Just what the hell is going on?_

"How about you go to the backroom and get me some beef for the newcomers? Go, go, so you can stop slacking." Gerda's disapproving command broke her bubble. She looked annoyed, but in the outline of her weary eyes she could see worry. Anna nodded and smiled weakly at her, hoping she would not ask about what had just happened and grateful for the distraction.

She fruitlessly searched for the elusive package on the dark room containing the dried beef for a few minutes, huffing in frustration as she failed to locate it. As she kept looking, she glanced briefly over the door leading to the stable; suddenly, she remembered she still had to talk to Kristoff and Kai about the hunt.

She entered the stable, quickly locating the blonde man. Kristoff was slumped over some hay by the wall, snoring softly with _Sven_ curled around his feet.

It wasn't unusual to find her friend asleep on the stable: he spent almost as many nights in there as in his room. They had an arrangement of sorts on the inn. She took night duties – which usually meant helping Gerda around and cleaning – while Kristoff took the heavy duties on the morning; that way, she had managed to claim her right to sleep in the mornings as much as she could.

The redhead kneeled in front of him and pocked him on the shoulder, but the blonde didn't register the touch. With a cheeky grin, she grabbed a strand of hay from the floor and waved it lightly just below his little nose. As expected, his face contorted and his nose scrunched upwards, until he sneezed loudly, waking up violently. His eyes darted wildly, scanning the room until they settled on Anna's smiling face.

The Huntress couldn't contain a brief laugh and Kristoff, annoyed, threw a handful of hay at her, which she dodged.

"Nice way of waking someone, feisty pants." He remarked grumpily. She smiled apologetically at him.

"Sorry. But you didn't wake up when I first tried." Kristoff scolded at her, but she ignored it. "Anyway. Could you tell Kai that I have something to discuss later? When everyone leaves, of course." She asked him. Kristoff yawned, ruffling _Sven_ fur gently and eyeing the woman curiously.

"Sure, about what?" He asked in return.

"The hunt from today. It went not as expected." She answered.

"When do they go as expected with you?" he said teasingly with his usual smirk, earning him a little punch to the shoulder.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, slightly irritated. _Why does everyone like to remind me of my clumsiness?_

Kristoff raised both hands, signaling a symbolic surrender. "Didn't mean to imply anything." He said smugly, earning him another punch.

Anna huffed, pouting at him. Her 'brother' laughed and rose, careful not to disturb the old hound.

"Will you tell me more?" He inquired.

"Later, after Kai wakes up. Don't forget to tell him, please. Your mom is not gonna let me go upstairs until everyone has left." She grimaced.

"Yeah, sure." The Hunter said. "I will tell Pops later."

"Thanks. Could you tell him to bring down the codices too? I want to have a look at them." She requested. Kristoff frowned.

"Why do you need them?"

Before Anna could answer, Gerda muted voice called for her from the kitchen.

"Gotta go! I will tell you later." She dashed towards the storage room. _Right, beef!_ she remembered, looking for it. After a couple minutes of not being able to locate the damn stuff, the innkeeper called again, her tone betraying annoyance this time.

Anna's head popped out from behind the door. "Ehm… Where is it?" she asked sheepishly. Gerda rolled her eyes.

"On top of the crates, left to the barrels of ale." She paused for a moment. "And don't go slacking with Kristoff while working!" She added, going back to the kitchen's chimney.

"Yes ma'am!" Anna returned and quickly located the package, handing it to the displeased woman.

-v-

As the night went on, the activity on the inn quieted down. The tables were already empty, stained all over from ale, water and crumbs. Anna had been left in charge of cleaning them while waiting for Kai and Kristoff to come down.

The few guests that stayed were already sleeping upstairs, and Gerda had called it a day and went upstairs. Belle had left with the bearded man just minutes ago, winking teasingly at a flustered ginger as she left. When she was almost finished cleaning, she finally heard the heavy footsteps of both men as they walked down the stairs.

Kristoff plopped down on one of the tables, followed by his father, both of them carrying old books, very similar to the ones Anna still had tucked in her room. But the topic on these ones was vastly different.

 _Kai's limp seems to get worse at night_ , she noted as the man sat in front of her.

"So, sister, what's this about?" Kristoff began.

Anna shifted a little bit on her seat. She decided to be blunt. "I found a _Sangerosi_ in Farstead. A mongrel. Really big one." She said, motioning the size with both her hands. Kai and Kristoff's eyes widened at the news.

"A Blood Mongrel?" The blonde muttered. "In Farstead? That's just in our doorstep!" He looked to his father. Anna too gazed over Kai, who appeared to be slightly taken back by her revelation. They all knew the implications.

"Did you get its curse?" Kai inquired cautiously. The Huntress nodded, taking a little parchment from under her right bracer, followed by one of her vials, containing thick, blackened blood. She had got both items the runes after coming back with _Renan_ to the nest to take the corpse. Kai saw the runes drawn and frowned. _That's a bad sign_ , Anna thought. If someone could recognize the markings was him. Kai shook his head.

They opened the codices and began looking for the rune, all of them reclined so the candle light would be enough. The pages, some old and some new, were filled with drawings of ancient runes, illustrated in simple strokes, detailing only its origins. An inventory of sorts for each curse and its wielder they knew about or faced.

Every particular curse had its own set of runes, a mark that identified them.

They kept searching for a match, or at least some similarity, but to no avail. The markings of the mongrel seemed… off. Its features were unusually sharp, spiky, while the majority of the ones registered where circular-shaped. They exhausted the pages quickly, and the three of them sighed. Kai rubbed his eyes, his mouth shut tight, clearly displeased.

"The curse did not occur on Farstead. The woods were clean." She remarked, somewhat frustrated at their lack of results.

The retired Hunter was deep in thought. "Troublesome." He started. "It's really likely that it came from another place, yes, but it must have been close." He hummed, stroking his chin absently.

"The markings, undoubtedly, are new. But there may be someone who has already encountered them. There is uneasiness in the North and the East, if rumors are to be believed." The man leaned back on his chair, and a wary silence descended upon them.

"Anna," Kai began. "I know you just came back, but I need to ask." The redhead held his gaze, knowing what he was going to ask.

"Could you go North for us? Visit the Stags, ask them about this?" He signaled with a dip of his head the unknown runes. Kai's glare was soft and apologetic as he continued. Anna saw with the corner of her eye something flash on Kristoff's gaze after the request.

"It's a lot to ask, dear, but…"

"It's alright." She intervened. "I don't mind. It's gonna take me four days at least to come back, though." She smiled warmly at them. Anna truly didn't mind. The debt she had with them, her foster family, was too great, and she could only hope she would be able to repay them somehow. Kai smile wavered a little.

"Yes, of course. How about you leave tomorrow? So you can be home at least for today, alright?" The man said as he got up, taking the books with him and bidding them goodnight, slowly walking up the stairs. His steps echoed in the room, its sounds sharpened by the deep silence of the night.

"I'll help you prepare tomorrow morning, then." Kristoff announced. Anna nodded, grateful.

Kristoff looked somewhat gloomy as he got up. "Hey. What's up?" Anna called. The tall man sighed.

"It's nothing. I just... I wish I could do more. I don't like the fact that I can't go hunting like you do. We rely far too much on you." Anna grimaced a little bit at his words. Kristoff had not been able to completely master his Seal, and therefore he wasn't recognized fully as a Hunter. But it was more than that. Anna knew of the guilt that hid behind his words. After what happened to his father, they wouldn't risk leaving the inn unprotected. So he stayed, and Anna traveled: an arrangement born of necessity.

"I don't mind." She muttered. Kristoff gave her a sad half smile and left.

When the Huntress climbed on top of her bed, cocooning herself in the blankets, her mind was filled with thoughts of mongrel's, blood markings and empty forests. And behind them was a burning presence that lingered at the edge of her mind.

-ooo-

Elsa scanned the horizon, taking in the sight of her home. It extended miles to the south, reaching all the way to her lake. _I miss the winter_. Winter meant a frozen lake, and shorter daylight. Winter meant the hills dressed in white…

She chuckled sadly, gripping her chest with her free hand. The left one was holding onto the tiles from the roof of the tower, where she sat. It was her favorite spot in her ancient manor.

The Countess couldn't feel the cold from the night's breeze. Nor fear from the height.

Her gaze focused once again in the clear skies: she had always loved this soft tone of blue as the dawn approached. It felt soothing, like a balm to her weakened spirit.

She swung her legs, relishing the feeling of her bare feet and legs dangling at the void below her.

Elsa remembered now, thanks to that night. She recalled the white dress, the curled locks of brown hair. Her chest tightened. She recalled… bit by bit.

A weird desire sprung to life. She wished for a wound, even a scar. Her unblemished skin felt empty. Because she wished for the pain to be tangible, to be real. _That way, I could see it, at least…_ she thought.

Her heart yearned for the tears she could not release. _Am I still capable of such?_ She wondered. The first lights of the rising sun were now clearly visible; it meant her time up there came to an end. She released a sigh, expertly climbing down the tower.

Drained, all she wanted now was to retire to the solitude of her room.

To sleep. To try and forget once more.

-ooo-

 _She was stripped of her armor, her scarf, her cape. She was stark naked. Red mist ran through her fingers, swirling around by an invisible, tender gush of wind._

 _They were in a strangle chapel. It was an old place, abandoned and forgotten, covered in an scarlet mantle. Along the main body of the building hung banners, their colors washed up long time ago. On the other side, in the atrium, the Countess waited._

 _Lady Nesfânt talked, her voice loaded with some deep, rumbling emotion, but the words couldn't reach her. Nonetheless, Anna understood, and closed the distance with feather-like steps. The air was coated with an invisible sorrow; like a languid whimper, hovering, untold, above her head; the soft sounds of her feet echoed humbly in the stone. And in the chapel's atrium, behind the black clothed woman, a mirror laid, its surface pristine, immaculate._

 _She reached the Countess, locking gazes with those red eyes, shining like embers in the midst of the night. The blonde woman took, with gentleness frail as glass, her hand, guiding her towards the mirror, tall and imposing, and stood quietly behind her._

 _The pale woman leaned forward, her cold breath tickling her left ear. Anna could feel her body tremble with anticipation, desire building up in her belly, overwhelming the strangeness of the whole ordeal._

 _She glanced at the mirror, her body materialized perfectly on the bright surface. But only her own reflection glanced back. In the mirror's surface, Anna was alone._

 _All her scars were there: tributes to the past. In her arms, chest, shoulders, neck… in all of them, tangible mementos of her mistakes; of her desperation. She could feel the Countess fingers slowly trailing the markings on her back, her lips brushing against her fire-kissed hair. Then the Lady whispered; her words soft and smooth as a drop of wine gliding over glass._

" _A mirror_ can _lie." The Lady said, her hands slowly descending from her shoulders, going down, exploring. The soft grazes felt strange: her eyes fought against her skin. She could feel every touch – cold, ethereal – but she couldn't see them._

 _ **Who's lying?**_ _Her own voice felt distant. As if it was submerged in thick waters, overflowing with echo._

 _ **Who's lying?**_ _She asked again. Her eyes or her skin? Her heart…?_

 _The Lady's hand traveled to her chest, and Anna moaned breathily. Her voice echoed all around. The movement was delicate, oh so delicate. Each lingering brush of lean, pale fingers was loaded with an almost unbearable ache._

 _ **Leave.**_

 _Anna's voice had changed. Foreign. Familiar. Her own, but not her own, all at once._

 _ **Leave. Why?**_ _The Countess murmured something she couldn't hear._

 _ **Leave. To where? To whom…?**_ _The Lady tangled one hand on her hair, pulling back gently._

 _ **Leave. To be alone, once more…?**_ _Elsa's dress dissolved in black mist. She brought their bodies together._

 _ **Escape.**_

 _The voice – her own voice – was pushing, clawing forward in despair. Elsa's lips nibbled at her throat; they spoke of pain, of grief, of a red horizon… of suffering without bounds. Anna couldn't recognize anymore to whom this dreadful, agonic sentiment belonged…_

…

" _ **Go back, escape! Anna, leave!**_ _"_

…

 _Last thing she heard was a loud, piercing caw._

-ooo-

Anna gasped, lurching forward as she gripped her chest with her hand, trying to keep her heart from exploding right out of her chest. She could still hear it, above the hellish drumming on her ears. The trampling, the growls. The screams.

This dream… or nightmare, she couldn't decide at the moment… she remembered everything. Every single detail. The way the Lady's hand roamed on her skin. _Those damned red eyes_ … she recounted, a chill running through her back and extending to the very tip of her fingers and toes.

Grumbling, she threw the blankets to the side, getting up from her little bed, its sheet drenched in sweat. A sudden rush of haziness flooded her senses. The young Huntress used the bed's edge to stabilize, trying to even her breath. Stomping around, she reached for the window, opening it violently.

All those dreams during the last week… were but a shadow of this one.

 _A red dawn_ , she noted as she looked outside. An omen, if she ever saw one.

The questions sieged her, a pool of doubts and wild considerations festering in her hazed mind.

This was getting out of hand. _By the gods, why can't I forget about it? Why do I keep remembering her?_ She mused, afraid. Yes, her encounter with the vampire had been quite frightful. But there was something amiss to all of it. Something _had_ happened between them. Something _had_ changed, inside her. She didn't know what, and it was terrifying on its own.

One thing was sure by now. She needed to find her. It was nonsensical, her reason claimed. _But what else can I do?_ She wondered desperately.

Some of her father's words came to her. She had asked him – as a child – about the mother she had never met, nor seen. Her father's smile, melancholic and sad, nearly broke her heart when she saw it.

" _Fate's a river."_ He had told her. _"It led me to your mother. It led me to you. Fate's a river, and it only flows one way."_

What's her encounter fate?

Anna knew there was only one way to find out.

Steeling her resolution, she took one deep breath, enjoying the cold air of the rising morning on the heated skin of her neck and arms.

There was much to be prepared for her journey.

-ooo-

 **Author notes** : So, so late; those "few days" became a month. IRL stuff has been a pain in the ass. Having difficulty writing consistently; slowly getting better, though.

Prologue and Chapter 1 have been fused together, for consistency and reading reasons (for those wondering why there are still three chapters even when story is updated.) The window for releases is, realistically, now every two or three weeks. This chapter ended up being more development (last one, I promise) but it finally starts to move things along. I really don't have any excuse for that, it just felt necessary. Hopefully you enjoyed it and found interesting things about the world and the plot to come. Reviews would be greatly appreciated ;)

Also, I'm gonna redo Chapter 2 and revisit Chapter 1, adding some bits here and there, trimming some of the filler and reworking some parts. This will add consistency with Chapter 3. The rework will take place at the same time with the upload of a little interlude and Chapter 4 (short chapter) in a couple weeks' time.


	4. Interlude I

Author notes at the end, as always.

 **Interlude**

-v-

The Royal Wing was silent as a grave. The few servants that remained available in this part of the castle usually scurried away at the sound of footsteps; most of them feared that the Queen had decided to grace this part of the castle with her presence. The ones he did saw bowed their heads when he passed by, promptly going back to their tasks.

Crown Prince Salazar reached the final portal. His gaze absently focused on the Royal blazon engraved in the woodwork: a Hussar's Shield, black and red, crossed by two halberds. The symbol had been around him since his earliest memories; in his clothes, in the banners on the halls and in the armor he had to wear occasionally.

He drew a heavy breath before stepping onto his father's room. The sickly atmosphere immediately stuck to his nostrils. The curtains were drawn, with only a sliver of light managing to squeeze between the slits. In the back of the large room was the four-poster bed; its scarlet colors muted, faded. The Royal Physician was on its side, reclined over and murmuring something to the bed-ridden king. The young Prince walked in, careful to keep his expression neutral.

The monarch moaned, shifting weakly beneath the covers. As he approached, the Prince felt the sudden need to leave the room – but the king's only son and heir reined on his emotions, forcing himself to watch. The man's eyes were clouded, milky. His jaw was littered with grayish stubble, and it lacked the strength it once had. His whole being seemed without force. The once powerful man who piggybacked him around the castle's yard, who once taught him, personally, how to ride and how to swordplay, was no more.

In his place was this thin, mumbling man, who gripped the sheets each time he trembled with bony, pale hands.

Prince Salazar felt the sting of rebellious tears in the corner of his eyes, but fought them back. The king looked at him, and something akin to recognition flashed in his eyes for the briefest of moments; the Prince heart leapt, but the spark in his father's gaze faded after a painful instant.

Every day was the same. Every day, he felt sick gazing over the delirious man. Like clockwork, he visited, and his father would not, could not recognize him. So he just knelt or sat at his father's side for an hour or two, watching him. He had done it for the last month or so, after the mysterious and ravaging sickness had forced the king to remain on bed.

After a while, the silence broke: the door's room opened slightly, and the Queen herself stepped inside, trailed by two of her maidens who kept outside the doors. The woman's attire – a white dress, pristine and shining – seemed somewhat off in the darkened chamber. Her head was always covered by a chaperon, white as well, the veil hiding her delicate features. She walked with composed, tiny steps, her hands joined chastely on her waist.

The physician bowed his head and began to walk towards the door. The Prince grabbed him by the elbow; his eyes asked. The old man shook his head just enough to be seen by the young heir; he let him go.

"Mother." He acknowledged with a quiet murmur, refusing to look at her as she sat on a chair behind him. The regal look on the woman's face unnerved him, even if barely visible by the cloths covering her; he knew very well what lay behind. It looked as if nothing unfazed her, not even the sight of his dying husband. Unlike with his father, he didn't know his own mother. He grew up in the care of the matrons, only truly seeing her in the wake of the balls and the reunions. He had cared about it for a long time, but that time had passed, years ago. Even now, he knew the Queen only came for appearances sake; because it was what decorum demanded.

Neither of them exchanged a single word. Prince Salazar couldn't shake the idea that the Queen appeared bored; something about the way she leaned on her seat gave her away. The king's consciousness seemed to drift in and out of a dream-like state, mumbling incoherently every now and then, but his feverish words didn't make sense. After a few minutes, a soft knock rang through the room. A young man, handsome and tall, peeked on the room, entering with a deep bow. He was dressed in a white habit, reminiscent of the Queen's dress. Prince Salazar had never liked his mother's attendant. He never on his life had truly despised someone, but with him… he came really close.

Behind the slim man trailed a few other ministers, all of them silent, bowing respectfully at them.

"Majesties." He greeted, smiling deviously. His voice, soft and mellow, and his smirk somehow reminded the Prince of a snake, sly and treacherous. "My Queen," he announced, "the afternoon service is about to begin."

"Of course. Thank you Luther." Answered the Queen, rising delicately from her seat.

"My dear son." She called before leaving. "Take good care of my husband." The Queen waved at the entourage that waited for her, signaling them to follow.

The young heir narrowed his eyes in suspicion: just below his mother's tone… there was amusement. It wasn't the first time he heard that particular inflection; a cross between condescendence and pity.

Luther's smug expression stuck with the Prince long after he and the Queen left. Something about that man's smile was off-putting. He looked back to his father, who fell blissfully asleep a while back. With some luck, prayed the young man, his sleep would remain peaceful.

-ooo-

After a miserable ride north, the walls of Vesigradt finally appeared behind the hill as rain poured wildly on the countryside.

Anna cursed, urging _Renan_ forward with a firm spurring. The storm had come out of nowhere, and it only worsened as she rode throughout the morning. She had always enjoyed the rain, but when the pouring menaced to drown her if she so dared open her mouth for a few seconds, all possible enjoyment was quickly lost. The skies roared above her, and she had to squint her eyes to see ahead. _Damn weather_ , she thought. The grumpy redhead raced toward the city gates, keeping her head low. She could feel her hair – and dampened clothes too – sticking hideously to her skin.

She passed the gates uninterrupted. Apparently the guards didn't care enough to go out into the rain and ask about her business in the city, to which she was grateful. She wanted only to get to the Stag's base and dry herself from the flood she had had to endure the last hours. Vesigradt's streets were deserted: even the homeless and beggars had run for cover from the merciless storm.

Riding over the muddy streets, the soaked redhead tried to not get lost in the myriad of grey buildings. She kept to the western district, running down the parlors and closed taverns until, finally, she saw the hulking three-store building of the Stag Guild. She went to the alley on the side, looking for the little porch she remembered being there for the occasional traveler.

After securing _Renan_ , she ran to the front door, shivering madly. "Hello?" the Huntress yelled, knocking roughly on the heavy-looking door. She jumped on one leg and then the other impatiently as she waited for a few seemingly endless seconds under the hellish rain.

A little window, protected by iron bars, opened on the door. Half a face appeared behind the bars. The man's left eye glanced critically at her, like he was assessing the lunatic who would came on this weather.

"Kai sent me. From the Crows." She yelled, her strangled words sounding like a plea for mercy. _I just want out of this damn rain_ , Anna thought, desperate.

The man's glance widened in recognition, opening the door for the soaked and grateful Huntress.

-v-

The fire crept in front of her, the heat doing wonders to Anna's body. Her teeth had finally stopped clattering and she rubbed her hands together, enjoying the warmth.

"It's truly you, little Crow." Vergen's raspy and ragged voice reached her as he entered the armory. When he took a sit to her side, the flames' light danced on his disfigured features, somehow enhancing the damage. His throat and whole left side of the face bore deep and large scars: four lines of bloated skin that ran across his cheek, stopping right below the brown eyes. _The price of mistakes_ , Anna knew, feeling an uncomfortable tingle in her left shoulder and back, where most of her own were.

"Thanks." The Huntress said when the man handed her a mug of hot cocoa. Her shoulders were wrapped in the wet towel she had used to clean herself. Her hair, she was aware, was a giant, fiery mess by now, but there wasn't much she could do about it. The living quarters of the Stag Guild were mostly empty, only occupied by herself, Vergen and a couple of young members playing dice on the dining room.

"It's nothing." The tall man said amenably, taking a sit in front of her. "So, what brings you, little bird, to our house?" he asked teasingly, his lips quirked in an amused smirk as he passed a hand through his black hair.

"Work." She answered, taking a sip from her drink and sighing happily, content to be warm and not drowning outside.

The veteran Hunter laughed. "I know that. I mean specifically. Surely Kai has a good reason to send you all the way here."

In response, she took out the drawing of the mongrel's markings – miraculously dry – from her bracer and gave it to him. Vergen's eyebrows shot when he saw the symbols.

"Where did you find this?" He asked with a hint of surprise, furrowing his brow.

"In Farstead. It was a _Catelul Sangeros_. It was not native from there, though. That's why I came. We want to know if you have seen the markings somewhere." Anna explained, taking another sip from her drink.

Vergen took the parchment and examined it; after a moment of quizzically looking from her to the rune on display, he stood up wordlessly and left. Anna, mildly intrigued, waited for a few minutes, humming softly to herself until the man came back, clutching in his left hand a couple of scrolls of different sizes.

"I shouldn't tell you without Trenton knowing. But what you brought confirms our suspicions." He began, extending one of the pieces he brought with him for Anna to see. They both knelt in front of the chimney.

The scarred man put the drawing from Anna side by side with his own. The markings were remarkably familiar, almost identical. The other scroll was a detailed map of the North.

"They look alike. Same witch, most likely." Anna said for the both of them. Vergen gave a quick nod.

"You must have heard some rumors by now. Well, not all of them are fake, I'm afraid." The Hunter explained. "The job up here has always been good. Helping the Hussars tracking, escorting noblemen, the random cursed here and there and such. You know the drill. But for the last months there have been lots of gossip coming from the Capital and the towns close to the Old Heart. Multiple sightings of _Mumas_ and _Sangerosi_. A month ago or so, thanks to a tip, some recruits found the camp of a witch, on the woods from the border's road." He pointed the place on the map, east from where they were. "She must have been the one who cursed your mongrel, it seems." Vergen pointed to the runes with his chin.

"But here is the thing." He continued, clearing his throat. "When they found it, the camp was empty. There were trails of horses and men, about a dozen, all around the place. And no _Muma_ to be found, no body either. They must have taken her."

"Soldiers?" Anna asked, confused at the news.

"Most likely. But here is the thing." The man grew increasingly wary the farther he talked. "Two weeks ago, we found another witch's camp, this time just an hour from here. Empty as well."

Anna frowned. Kai _had_ told her there was some uneasiness on the North, but this was something else, bigger.

"That's why the garrisons have been called? To hunt down witches? Why? They have us. They just need to ask."

"We think that too, yes. But we know for a fact most of the army and the Hussars have been sent to the borders, as a precaution. Because of the King's sickness. So in the end, something is not adding up." He ventured.

Anna nodded in understanding. Papa had taught her, in a broad sense, the politics that were necessary to run the kingdom.

"Anyway. From that moment onward, we have been flooding in jobs." Vergen said. _That explains why there is no one in here_ , Anna thought.

"People missing, cursed beasts roaming around all the way to Corona. The Dragons have reported the same over there. It feels as if something is stirring them from their hiding. Actually, we were on the verge of contacting you Crows ourselves, to ask how things were in the south." He finished with a humorless chuckle, his right hand scratching nervously at his scars.

An ominous silence fell as the redhead considered everything she just heard. Her cocoa had long ago cooled in her hands.

-v-

After a couple hours, the storm loosened up. Anna had refused Vergen's offer to stay the night, arguing that she wanted to go back to Arendelle as quickly as possible. That last bit, of course, was a lie. Her true mission laid west.

Now the pair rode across the muted, sad streets of Vesigradt, as the man had offered to at least escort her to the city's gate and see her off. They were close to them when something caught the redhead's attention.

A procession of white clad men was leaving from a humble chapel, chanting in a dialect somewhat reminiscent of the Old Tongue. The group chanted loudly, walking with their arms crossed across the chest and their faces cast down in a clear sign of devotion. She had never seen something like that.

"What's that?" The Huntress inquired to his companion. Vergen glanced at the religious display and huffed.

"Nutjobs." He spat in disgust. Anna looked at him, intrigued.

"Oh, right. You guys on the hills are not caught up. _The Church of the Light's Cross~_ " His rough voice intoned mockingly. "They always had a foothold in Corona, but ever since the Queen's endorsement a few years back, their numbers have been growing, fast. Spreading from the Capital, of course."

"So… whats the deal?" The redhead asked, confused by Vergen's reaction.

"They all crazy as goats. The priests, and most of their followers, are _truly_ fanatical. They flagellate, go on hunger streaks, and attend this weird, public masses, chanting and shit. And they despise us. Rambling about 'purity' and the impending wrath of God." The man scoffed.

Anna's suspicions flared. "Don't you think they're behind what's been happening?" _They must know that, right?_ She thought skeptically.

"At first, we suspected as much." The man replied. "But they are not a militant order. They may have the Queen's favor, but the militia and the Hussars are not under her control. And we doubt the King's Council would let them do that kind of thing. It seems more of a symptom than the sickness." He shrugged his shoulders. "As I said. Lately nothing makes sense."

Anna nodded, casting one last concerned look at the procession.

-v-

Vesigradt's walls shrunk on the horizon as the first rays of light were finally able to pierce the thick skies. Before leaving, she wrote to Kai about the strange events on the North: the witch's camp, the markings and everything else of interest Vergen had told her. She annexed a hand-drawn copy of the curse, and sealed the parchment. With some luck, the carrier eagle from the Stags could deliver the information far more quickly than herself.

While on the Stags base, she had requested Vergen's map for a consult. In it, she got the last piece she lacked on her quest. Half a day following the Old Heart – the massive forest that separated north from south – was the location of the Gheata State.

During the last days she passed on the road, a stubborn idea was lodged deeply in the back of her mind, filling her with dreadful anticipation.

She felt as if someone had put the wheels of fate in motion, and she was beginning to get caught in their path.

-ooo-

 _Muma_ : forest witch.

 _Catelul Sangeros_ : Blood Mongrel.

AN: A little interlude that finishes the introductory part of the over-arching plot of the story. I'm sorry if this chapter feels just like an exposition dump. Next week – if everything goes according to plan – is chapter 4 and a soft rewrite of chapter 1 and 2. However, if I decide to compress chapter 4 and 5 in a really long one, next update will be two weeks, minimum. (And this time I actually stuck to my two week deadline. Yay?)

Also, for anyone wondering about the locations, geography and the Guilds, I'm working on a map for the kingdom; all the Guilds will be explained at a later chapter, promise.

As always, reviews would be greatly appreciated. Cheers!


	5. A Fool's Quest

Thanks for all the follows, favorites, and reviews so far. You guys keep me motivated. AN at the end, as always.

 **Chapter 4**

 **A Fool's Quest**

" _Nesfânt!" The angered, gravelly voice called for her. She smiled as she strolled down the halls. Elsa took her time to arrive at the dining hall, knowing her tardiness would enrage him even further._

 _She opened the doors and made her way to the head of the grand table, passing her hand delicately over the top of the chair's backs as she walked. There were no servants in the room, which meant he had tossed them out at some point. In between the room's windows were rows of old, dusty banners, all basted with the Rose of the Westergaard's sigil._

" _Yes, Hans? How can I be of service?" She mocked, doing a tiny bow as she reached him._

 _He shot daggers at her, slumped against the large back of his chair, clad in a pristine white suit. In his youth that type of outfit had complemented his lean figure and auburn hair, giving him an aura of prowess and elegancy. But now, Elsa noted, it served only to enhance his worn-down looks: the rough, grey beard and the long wrinkles in his forehead, his cheeks and around his eyes._

 _It had always intrigued her how much resemblance those green orbs had with those of her sister, and, at the same time, how great the differences had been. While Elena's – gentle and beautiful – had usually been tinged in melancholy, his' betrayed a profoundly engrained anger, which he tried to hide while on his prime. Now, he didn't bother to do so._

 _Hans took a sharp sip from his goblet, groaning softly, never taking his gaze of her. Elsa stood still, waiting._

 _His frown deepened._

" _You…" he coughed violently. It took him only a few seconds to recover, but she could see his hardened knuckles gripping the armchair._

" _I gave you an order, Nesfânt." Hans reclaimed, leaning forward in a failed attempt to appear threatening. "I told you to accept the Duke's offer. And to do it without… troubles. Now…" he looked over the table, towards a parchment lying amidst the cutlery, "he tells me you declined, rather disrespectfully."_

 _Elsa held his gaze, unblinking. His eyes flared._

" _Do you understand the position you leave me in?" He shouted, stifling another fit of coughs. How weak, she thought. "I gave you an order! You will do as I say, and marry the Duke's son. You must!"_

 _She could see what his outrage really meant. The envy, the resentment, of what he perceived as an injustice: a wrong doing of fate, for she possessed what he had chased after his whole life. She knew why the sole view of her provoked him: her flawless skin, her unblemished features, her unnatural youth… Every time he struggled to get up; every time he coughed and shook, his glance would find her._

 _Accusing._

" _That's not going to happen." She answered dryly, letting some of her contempt flow in her words._

 _He slammed his fist against the chair's arm. Elsa stopped herself from rolling her eyes._

 _She gazed around, making her boredom known. Briefly, she focused her attention in the bouquet of roses that decorated the table's center, almost identical to the ones depicted on the manor's banners._

 _The flowers were on the verge of dying, weak and withered._

 _His anger, his hatred, it had lost any meaning to her. Now it was a sport, a fine entertainment for the dull days she endured. She was going to keep her promise, but that didn't mean she had to indulge Hans in his power-games. So… pitiful. So unlike his late sister._

' _Don't leave him alone, please.' Elena had asked her. How could she love her brother, Elsa had never understood. But it had been her wish, and she would carry it out. A cynical part of her knew she wouldn't have to keep her promise for too long._

" _If that's all…" she began with another low reverence, breaking the charged silence between Lord and protégée._

" _Damn you." He spat vehemently as some wine droplets flew from his beard._

 _The young vampire turned on her heels and walked away, sighing. Having to deal with his temper… it was losing the novelty it once had. The manor… this great, half-empty hall, the shining luxury surrounding her… All of it, stripped of strength, of light… of life. It all had died with her._

" _I was a fool to take you in,_ Nesfânt _." Hans grumbled, shifting in his chair, his voice barely reaching. Elsa had never heard a voice so weight with bitterness._

 _The blonde stopped below the entrance's frame._

" _Yes, you were." She replied before leaving, closing the door behind her quietly._

-ooo-

With a loud ' _thump_ ', the stubborn hatch swung open, finally surrendering to the redhead's efforts. The disheveled Huntress stumbled backwards. She panted for a while, trying to recover her breathing, taking the sweat off her brow with her gloved hands.

She glanced across the quiet woods, searching for any guard alerted by the ruckus she had just caused. Nothing. Only silence met her.

The redhead exhaled heavily, flexing her sore muscles. No guards, nor hounds, so far. Her eyes focused far away, barely getting a glimpse, through the tall trees, of the building that dominated the whimsical hills below. The Gheata Manor.

Anna knew some facts of these old manor's, which dated back to the era of the King's Unification; the times of the old squabbling Houses, when they fought against one another for lands and gold. These kinds of manors had been built as personal fortresses, hence their bulky and strong edifications.

It seemed some of her father's efforts in teaching history did stick.

With that information in mind, Anna had scouted the boundaries of the large State, careful to not reveal herself to one of the patrol of guards roaming around its borders. She focused her search in the grounds close to the manor itself, because she knew somewhere there must have been a hidden passage, built as escape in case the State fell in enemy hands.

Her journey from Vesigradt had been uneventful: the roads where mostly empty, aside from the occasional caravan of merchants or travelers, like herself. She arrived at the State's border at twilight, which meant her search would need to wait for the morrow.

So, she camped for the night, without a fire, and slept on the little woods that separated the State from the road west. The next morning, she began her search. A few hours into the evening, with the sun midway her descend towards the horizon, she came across a sure sign of her goal: discreetly marked oaks, all gathered in a little area that was in a line straight to the manor's left side. Anna had – _finally_ , thought grumpily – found the hidden entrance to the passage.

She left _Renan_ close to the passage's entrance. In case everything went amiss, she had made sure her mount's leashes were not knotted, so he could wander around, and eventually be found and reclaimed by someone.

Alone in the middle of these quiet woods, she pondered one last time what she was about to do.

While it was an unusual part of their jobs – since these were peace times –, all Hunters learnt about the basics of infiltration; whether to spy or to steal from a noblemen, jobs like that occasionally arose. She found them distasteful, of course, a feeling her father and Kai shared, so they only taught her the basics, as a safekeeping measure. Now, those skills would come in handy. She didn't like it one bit but, what else could she do?

Go down to the manor's door and knock, asking for the State's Lady? Some part of her, oddly enough, had actually considered it, but she eventually had to concede it was a ludicrous notion.

Truth to be told, she still couldn't quite wrap her head around what she was doing here, exactly. _But the dream… that was something else_ , she remembered. How could she find her answers, she did not know, either. But this travel, somehow, it felt right: as if it was meant to be, to happen. Every time she went back to _that_ night, she could feel the hand of fate steering her actions, gently pushing her into the pale Countess' path.

It was foolish, she knew. They – Kai, Gerda and Kristoff – would search for her, move heaven and earth looking, if she didn't make it back. A wave of uncertainty crashed against her thoughts. Anna shook her head, trying to dispel that particular affection.

When in doubt, she went onwards.

No more staying behind.

Whatever she would find inside the Gheata Manor, the Huntress knew she could fight her way through it. Her preparations back in the inn had been careful and conscious. Before entering the dark tunnel below her, she ensured all her concoctions and weapons were ready. Her bow was secured on her back, same as her arrows; her trusty dagger also, sheathed and hidden in its usual place. Now, all that was left for her to do was raise a prayer: that the tunnel had not been closed neither collapsed on its own.

 _It's time_ , she thought, inhaling deeply the fresh, earthy essence of the little forest. With a tiny jump, she fell into the shadowy passage.

-ooo-

The library extended through the left wing, a grand hall that was generously illuminated by the evening sun, thanks to its large windows. A peaceful place. Unlike many of the other rustic halls in the manor, the silence here did not feel oppressive. Yet, Elsa could not find solace. Pinching her nose's bridge, she put down her book, sighing for the umpteenth time.

Words of fiction did nothing for her in times like this. She got up from the divan she had laid on the last couple hours, marching towards the corner of the room. All her favorite books were in that corner: safely arranged in the only bookshelf the sun never touched. And above them, a painting, the one she treasured the most. It was a painting of the state's lake, of course. Elsa smiled sadly.

She recalled now. Elena used to paint. She would sit in the upper wing, facing the forests that lead to the roads, her eyes dancing between the canvass and the open windows.

The memory felt insufficient, somehow, blurry and raw. Now that those memories had been unlocked, Elsa wondered if she could put them away again, or ever.

Her sanctuary held the key. If she wanted to, a single word could fully restore that life; make it come back fully, at least inside her soul. But she couldn't. She felt sick, drowning in her melancholy. But the other option was to free herself of that burden. Break the incantation that held back her past.

 _I can't_ , she confessed. Elsa knew she couldn't. To endure again that pain…

She tucked the book and walked away. The Countess leaned against the hall's wall, next to the window, only an inch away from the sun's light.

Elsa considered going back to the chalet – to go away of this damned place. Look at the sea again. But it was, still, too soon. If chance was kind, maybe she could, in a couple decades. Off-handedly, she lifted her pinky, letting it soak in the sunlight. It hurt her, of course. She held on, until the pain escalated. She retracted it and poked into the light again, a few times.

This was as close as she could get to feeling the sunlight.

She continued to do it until she was abruptly interrupted. Something stirred. Elsa retracted her finger immediately, focusing on the feeling. An invasion, of sorts. Something breaking the veil, deep below. It was a weird feeling, to be _soul-bound_ to a place. It had taken her a long time to figure out how to do it. In retrospective, it should have been obvious. ' _The earth bounds',_ she recalled the mage words.

The vampire paced around, concentrating in the dusty feeling the old stones communicated. She frowned. All she saw was red. Everywhere this intruder touched, there was heat.

The presence… It felt… soft, warm, like the kind aura radiating of a child. She remembered this. She had… seen it before. In front of her. _There is no way…_ , the blonde thought.

Elsa's eyes widened as she made the connection. She dashed out of the library in a hurry, intent on reaching the Huntress before she entered her sanctuary.

-ooo-

The tunnel's air felt humid. The walls were almost entirely covered in moss and thin roots, sticking out of the blueish stones. The ceiling was just tall enough for her to walk without hunching too much. At regular intervals were wooden polls, which presumably functioned as the support for the tunnel.

From the moment any traces of the light from the outside disappeared, she felt the distinct and unsettling sensation of being observed. The crumbling walls seemed to follow her every step. A couple times she flinched and turned, having caught some faint movement in the edge of her vision. Her eyes adapted rather well to the darkness – one of the few positive quirks of her Seals –, so she had no trouble avoiding the holes and cracks on the stone floor, but still… she could not shake the suspicion that someone was aware of her bold trespassing.

The tunnel went deep into the earth, in a steep angle. Without realizing, she began to hold her breath as she went on.

Eventually, her path flattened and she no longer felt she was descending. _So far… so good_ , she reflected, feeling some sort of relief rise in her chest. It looked like the tunnel, in its abandoned state, hadn't suffered from any major collapses.

After a few minutes of careful walking (and a few, harmless stumbles) something changed in her surroundings. She had reached some sort of entrance, an arc made of cracked stones, black as night. _The entrance to the manor, most likely_ , Anna thought briefly, before passing under it.

The tunnel's walls were different in this part, she noticed. The stones seemed sturdier, more regular-shaped, and to her surprise, she could see some patterns in them. A flow of little flowers, carefully carved in the stone's surface. Most of the details had already eroded into dust; still, Anna could follow the delicate lines with the tip of her fingers.

There it was, again. The passage was deadly silent, and yet, as she walked deeper, she could have sworn she actually heard faint whispers; like soft murmurs embedded in the stone and pebbles around her, coming out to greet her. _Not creepy at all_ …

A few paces ahead, she finally found the tunnel obstructed. An iron gate closed off her path. She glanced between the bars, squirting her eyes, but she couldn't make any details of the room on the other side. _What now?_ She wondered, tapping her foot impatiently as she considered her options. Mind-absently, she grabbed the gate and shook it slightly, testing.

With a soft creak, the portal swung open a little. It was unlocked.

Anna blinked. _I'm either really lucky… or I'm walking straight into a trap._ She entered the room with tiny steps, anticipation building up on her chest.

The cavernous room looked old, forgotten. It seemed like some sort of basement, or cellar. She must have been close to a source of light, because now she could see more clearly. There were thick, grey columns at regular intervals across the large chamber. Anna noticed there was something at the columns' feet, black and irregular. She stepped closer to tone of them and knelt down to inspect it.

It was… dirt. Hesitant, the Huntress took a little pinch from it. Simple, black dirt. Her eyes trailed up. There was something drawn over the column's stone. Markings. Anna squinted, trying to read onto the patterns.

 _A blessing_ … she recognized, standing up as she followed the old symbols drawn in flat ink. _Or more exactly… an incantation. Ancient protections, against the Red Madness._ She leaned closer: a detail about the color of the runes piqued her interest. Then, she took a step back as the knowledge dawned on her. It was not ink. It was dried blood.

She looked around, feeling her heart's beat against her chest. On the other side of the room, she saw, there was something else. Anna couldn't make out the exact outline from that distance, but it seemed like a small, boxed-shaped object. She began to make her way towards it.

A chill ran through her, making her neck's hairs stand. A gut feeling, like a bucket of freezing water dumped over her head. Her eyes widened and her breath faltered.

This time, there was no mistake. Someone, or something, was looking at her, intently. She spun around violently, reaching instinctively for her bow, but as she did, a sharp sting bore onto her back, sending her flat onto the ground.

 _What…?_ The room around her whirled and shook. Her knees gave up and she fell, collapsing all over the floor. She felt as if a thousand bugs, scolding hot, ran through her back. Anna had fallen flat, and she could not move an inch. Her fingers twitched, but her hands were empty.

 _What's… happening?_ She thought, barely able to gather the will to do so. She could not blink. There was only the heat she felt, eclipsing any other sensation, burying her conscious mind.

The warmth eventually faded, replaced by icy tendrils gripping at her limbs and chest, a feeling so cold it burned beneath her skin.

The last she saw were snow-pale feet, bare, approaching her.

-ooo-

 _Anna was cold. Her body's warmth seeped from her limbs slowly, even with her cape wrapped around her arms and chest. The fire had died hours ago, and she couldn't pull herself to do something about it. The western border of the Old Heart, and the whole hills right next to it, were bathed in the gentle light of a full moon. Somewhere far, Anna heard a low howl break the night's peace._

 _This was fine. She felt bad for_ Renan _, who was sleeping a few paces away; but she knew someone would take care of him. Hopefully, a farmer from the lands ahead would find a good job for the horse. Her own mount she had sold back home, nameless, all those months ago._

 _Papa's horse was the only one she could take in her journey._

 _She felt a familiar tug in her chest. The wound that had opened almost a year ago; the one she knew could never close. Gerda had told her that time would heal it when she came to say goodbye, but she could see the doubt in her eyes; the way she rubbed her hands together told her enough. Kai and Kristoff gave her a hug and a few caring words, and that was the end of it. They understood better. Why she couldn't stay close to them._

 _Now it would be over. It was easy. Even just, fair, like she could, somehow, repay her debt by giving what her father lost. So she laid in the darkness, against a tree, looking absently at the few embers that remained of the campfire. Waiting. Her stomach groaned, but she ignored it. Her arms and legs tingled from the cold, but she remained still._

 _She had stopped her aimless ride two days ago, as her meager reserves of food had ran out. Hunger was no stranger, as she had endured it for most of her journey. It pulled at her, demanding some kind of desperate action. But she refused to. She could not go on. Whatever strength she had left after that day, it had died in the brutal training she faced, and in the following months of roaming the kingdom's lands._

 _The new markings – the bearings of her second Seal, scorched in her neck – still stung from time to time. Damian had tried to dissuade her from trying to master the Fire Seal, but she pressed on. In her grieving madness, she pushed herself as hard as she could, in a vain attempt for self-redemption. Now she knew what a foolish idea it had been. No amount of punishment could cleanse her from her sins. Her weakness, unsurmountable and deadly. Now, she had found a way to truly balance the scales._

 _This was fine, she repeated to herself. She felt her muscles relax bit by bit, and her eyelids began to falter every now and then. Another howl, more close this time. She didn't care. Maybe that way she could guarantee not waking up. Pain couldn't scare her no more._

 _The hills seemed to glow, imbued in an almost ethereal mist. Here and there, little farm-houses sprung from the earth like mushrooms. She wanted to close her eyes, but the calm beauty called, beckoned for a last, grasping bit of attention. She couldn't help but wonder, what lay beyond the darkness ahead of her. Would she feel this sort of, frail, glass-like peace? Or there would be nothing more than eternal silence, where her guilt could have no voice?_

 _The Huntress sighed, clenching her fist around the light cape. Would she feel her own life slipping away? Did Papa felt it?_

 _A new, clear howl snapped her out of her musings._ Renan _woke up, startled, and neighed at her, pulling himself up and stomping around nervously with his hoofs. A few moments passed, and then she heard the unmistakable sound of rustling leaves, and the rapid pace of a canine approaching. Anna flinched on pure instinct, but tried to remain calm. She had already decided on her fate, thought groggily. If it came to it, she knew the mare would flee, and she would repay the debt._

 _The soft and fast steps grew closer. The redhead straightened her back, keeping her hands crossed around her chest. She would not scream, nor run. But then, why did she hear only a single animal approaching? Wolves hunted as a pack. A stray, perhaps, she pondered. She was tired; she just wanted this to be over._

 _She heard a tiny whimper._

 _Anna opened her eyes, confused._

 _A grey hound was sitting in front of her, looking directly at her. The redhead blinked, once, twice. Was she dreaming? The large dog whimpered once again, stepping closer and nuzzling his nose against her arm. Something tugged at her memories. Anna focused in the collar around the animal's neck; in it, hung a silver medallion, with little blinking lights orbiting it. A tracking spell, she recognized. Thanks to the incantation, she could make out the details engraved in the metallic piece: the profile of a bird. A crow._

"Sven _…" she muttered. The hound sat and howled, beckoning his master to his location. Some minutes later, a horse and its rider arrived at her desolate camp. Grumbling after a rough dismounting, the man ducked in front of her, lifting the hood of his traveling clothes._

" _Damn,_ Carrots _." Kristoff said. "I thought you were gone for good."_

 _Anna looked at him. Her chest felt warm, unbearably so. Time passed in silence, and the Huntress attention anchored to his friend's quirked smile. Something snapped inside of her at the sight, like a snow-covered branch giving out by its own weight. She hiccupped, as the tears flowed freely. The blonde reached out, and Anna dashed forward to his embrace._

-ooo-

Her eyelids lifted slowly.

She felt soft all around. Anna blinked a few times, slowly looking around, a little disoriented. She sat up on the bed, making the blankets pool around her waist. First thing she noticed was the foreign weight around her neck. Stifling a big yawn with her left hand, her right one poked around the skin on the base of her head. Her fingers touched something cold, polished. She felt around the object, noticing it encircled her whole neck. _A choker?_ Anna thought, confused.

Then it all came back in a single rush. The fire that seized her, inside the basement…

"Hope you slept well." A clear, delighted voice called.

Anna jumped, recoiling until her back hit the bed's head, making the mattress creak under the sudden movement. Her eyes adapted quickly to her surroundings. The whole room felt as if it was submerged: the walls held quite an odd mixture of violet and blue tones. She could make the shape of the bed where she laid, as well as a tiny vanity desk on the other side of the room. And a few feet close apart from the bed, a large chair, where Lady Nesfânt sat comfortably, with her legs crossed, facing her directly.

Those red eyes glowed intensely – equally fascinating as the first time she saw them – and were pointed at her; a stare that seemed to drown everything else in a grey fog.

A charged silence fell upon on the room. In her hasty retreat, the Huntress had grabbed the silky blankets, dragging them with her. The Countess gaze never left her.

After a few seconds, Anna felt like one of those circus' animals, the ones that came from the far kingdoms in the east. Like some sort of exotic entertainment, one the pampered rich would see and laugh at from their high seats.

The silence extended, and the redhead could not help but giggle a little, unsettled. How could this be happening? This set-up was absurd, insane. Here she was, still in her traveling clothes, sitting in a bed inside the Gheata Manor. Why was she even alive? The Countess – the vampire, Anna had to remind herself – looked content with keeping her ongoing, mute inspection. A tiny smirk formed in the rosy lips of the blonde as the seconds dragged on.

Anna remained silent, not willing to surrender – to what, she couldn't guess – but her resolve was cracking quickly under the intense stare.

A part of her wanted to laugh, the part that assured her this was just a feverish dream.

The Huntress soon steeled her gaze, confronting the noblewoman to make the first move. But her treacherous mind had other plans. Anna's sight began to flicker, slowly noticing some things.

For example, the very… _skimpy_ night-robe. Anna could not stop herself from eyeing the full extension of those long, immaculate legs. The vampire's hair cascaded behind her back, with some strands laying over her delicate, uncovered shoulders. And her barely covered breasts…

"Eyes up." The Lady said, bemused.

She straightened up. Her cheeks and ears suddenly felt hot; she knew she had been caught practically ogling her.

"How did you capture me?" She asked, deflecting her slip; her voice sounded constrained. Her throat felt tight: dry and un-cooperating.

"A simple curse." The Lady answered. Anna could have sworn she heard the smile pulling at those rosy lips. "Don't worry," she added, "it was only to restrain and disarm. Nothing more."

A simple "Why?" was everything Anna could muster.

The vampire tilted her head, puzzled.

"You came here to _hunt_ me, and you are asking _why_ I'm restraining you?" The blonde's expression morphed into something resembling amusement.

The vampire seemed unfazed at the prospect. As if she didn't actually consider her a treat. And Anna realized, she was right. Lady Nesfânt held all the power. She knew what the choker around her neck meant: obsidian, the Black Stone, stripping her of any chance of using her Seals. She was completely at her mercy.

"Hunt you?! No, that's not…" Anna began, but trailed off, reflecting. _Oh yeah, the whole armed Huntress thingy_ … she thought. From an outsider perspective that's what must have seemed. Infiltrating the manor, armed to the teeth…

The Countess blinked, once, twice, confused.

"You're not here to kill me?" She asked; her voice's tone even. The redhead shook her head, some untied bangs shifting with the gesture.

Anna considered what to say, or if to say anything at all.

"I came… I came here to ask you." Anna was having trouble coming up with an explanation that didn't seem ludicrous or simply mad.

"I have been having these… dreams. Most of them, I can't remember, but afterwards… the anguish remains. A feeling that doesn't go away, ever since _that_ night. I don't know what's been going on, and I thought, maybe, you could tell me what you did to me." She rambled unknowingly. " _If_ you did something…! I just kind of assumed…"

Anna forced her mouth shut, struggling to stop her verbiage. The Countess features were stoic, unmoving, but something about the way her eyes gazed at her betrayed surprise, and the same kind of amusement she saw earlier.

"So you came here, all the way from the south, just to ask me?" The Countess inquired. Anna noted the hidden implication. Incredulity. She gave a curt nod in response.

For the next few, unbearable moments, the Countess appeared lost in thought. Her gaze then changed, yet again, this time calculating. Anna was surprised how easily she could read her.

The vampire leaned, resting her head with her right arm. She almost looked… dreamy, a beautiful kind of expression. _Snap out of it!_ Anna thought.

The sentence that came out of the vampire's lips was said in careful, precise syllables, like she had trouble putting her request into words.

"Let me bite you." Was the simple request.

Anna blinked in rapid succession, baffled. Surely she hadn't heard right, but the words ringed in her mind. ' _Let me bite you_ '. Kai's warning words rushed back to her. Had this been the vampire's plan all along? To mess with her mind and lure her into her den?

"I'm asking." The Countess said, probably sensing her disbelief. "I could force you to. But I'm… intrigued, you could say so. I would much better prefer it if you… agreed to it, rather than forcing myself upon you."

Anna frowned a little. Did she actually have a say in the matter?

This whole time, she felt… disarmed. And not because of her lost weaponry. Her survival instincts buzzed inside her, but their impulse felt off, incongruent with her situation. _I'm not afraid_ , she discovered. It didn't make sense. She should be looking for a way of getting the hell away, but all her attention was absorbed in the vampire's movements. Contrary to last time, her instincts were losing this battle. Hard.

Just for an instant, Anna wondered what it would feel like. The thought scared her. _Why I'm even considering it?_ She chastised herself, but the idea stubbornly clung to her. Their gazes intertwined again, much like the first time they had met, back in those equally ridiculous circumstances.

"If you came to ask me about your dreams, I'm sorry." The Lady said softly, like she meant the apology. "I'm afraid I lack the answers you seek."

"You _don't_ know?" Anna asked. The Countess shook her head.

"I didn't do anything to you. But you're right. Something happened. What, exactly, I have no clue." She continued. "That's why I'm asking. It would take me a lot of time to explain to you _why_ , but maybe… I can learn something. I truly don't know what else to do." She finished with a shrug of her shoulders.

Anna pondered upon those words. Was this all a ruse? It didn't seem so. It was just such an odd situation. Against all sense, she believed the vampire's words. This thing, between them. Neither of them had a clue. She focused her attention in the pale woman, searching.

It was still there.

The pain in those eyes, buried underneath all that beauty.

Be damned, her curiosity. She wanted to know what lay behind.

The vampire walked over the bed and sat on the edge. Anna found the gesture strangely respectful; like the Countess was actually asking her for permission before stepping closer. She then inched towards her, tentatively.

Gently.

Maybe, somehow, this would lead her to answers, to something that explained this… familiarity, she now felt. The Countess, inch by inch, leaned forward, crawling over the sheets. Inside her, there was a voice screaming at the top of its lungs, warning her. But that voice sounded so low, so far away…

"It's… frustrating." The snow-blonde whispered, tracing a finger around Anna's jaw. "Not knowing what's going on inside you…"

 _What?_ Anna's mind pointed out. _'Going on inside you?' Inside me? What the hell does that mean?_

The vampire's face hovered in front of her. She could see now the pointy fangs, standing out in between rows of perfect teeth.

Those eyes of scarlet were hypnotic. They had the texture of dark wine, infinitely deep. Dazed, Anna swept aside her mind's concerns. Reality had been reduced to a single question. Would she surrender? She briefly envisioned herself, standing outside a closed door. Her hand hovered over the doorknob, trembling. To cross, she would need to let go.

Anna gulped down loudly. Was she under a spell she could not sense? It was the only explanation she had for the tiny nod of agreement she gave the vampire. The Huntress felt feverish; her whole mind scattered, broken in a million pieces that vainly fought to be whole again.

The blonde's hair now fell to both sides, framing the vampire's snowy, lean features. The redhead gripped the sheets more intensely.

"Can I?" Lady Elsa murmured, slurring the words.

She shuddered as the fangs scrapped her skin. She averted her gaze, looking the other way. Then came the pain, blunt and sudden.

It was futile; any resistance. She was far too deep in to back down now. Anna opened the door.

-ooo-

Everything was on fire. Her limbs, her skin. Her whole being had been lit ablaze; her heart, for all she knew, had burst in roaring flames.

Her request had been rather… impulsive, but the words left before she realized. Around her, Elsa lost many of her inhibitions. It was such an unfamiliar experience: like a moth drawn to the light, she just could not get a hold of herself. If she was honest, it was quite intoxicating. Such vibrant, colorful reactions she got from her captive.

She was a mystery. The vampire couldn't dive inside her soul. She had tried as the red-haired woman slept, and yet again as they talked.

Ever since their first encounter, there had been a link. The nameless redhead had broken the bounds of her past, making it flow back in bits and pieces. She was undeniable alluring, and she didn't even know her name.

It didn't matter; she would find out later. All those thoughts came muffled, a pitiful noise in the background of her mind.

Right now, she was drowning in pleasure.

The blood of the Huntress freed her long-standing barriers, even if for only an instant. With a strangled murmur, she sank her teeth deeper. Every... _nourishment_ she could recall paled to this. There was no comparison, whatsoever.

Before completely losing herself to this burning madness, she marveled. What made this human so special?

Unbeknownst to Elsa, the memories of Elena's evenings – as she painted the summer landscapes – regained their colors and lights inside her soul.

-ooo-

AN: Short chapter (and pretty late, sorry about that), but we're finally here, in the exciting part of the story. This chapter was really hard to nail down, because the next one has already been planned out, and I had to find something of worth to tell in this one; ergo, the flashbacks. But, alas, it finally kicks things into gear; and hopefully, Anna and Elsa's reunion didn't feel too abrupt or rushed. Chapter 5 (big chapter, to compensate for this short one), I'm very looking forward to finish, since it's the first turning point of the over-arching plot, and the introduction of one last character (which some of you, clever readers, might have a clue of who he/she is). A little bit of trivia: anyone who knows what _Gheata_ means will know later, the name it's really appropriate, same as _Nesfânt_.

Also, I'm looking for someone to beta read next chapters, 'cause it would go a long way to churn them out faster and in a better state. If anyone cares to explain to me how the whole beta-reader thing works, it would be much appreciated.

Till next time (again, in a couple weeks), cheers!


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